

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 






















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CARL AT EIGHT YEARS OF AGE. 











BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE 


SCHOOL-MASTER 


THE LIFE OF CARL MACKENZIE 


^ ' v N V^. 


DEDICATED TO THE SCHOOL-TEACHERS OF AMERICA 




BY 


ONE OF THE TEACHERS 


0F - Co v-Xs 
copyright 'X, 

10 43 VI ' 




CHICAGO 

W. W. Knowles & Co 




Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1891, byC. M. Pinkerton, 
in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 


rf 



v ~l ^ 


Chicago. 
Manufactured by 
W. B. Conkey. 


PUBLISHER'S NOTE. 


Life is short, and teachers, like most other busy and 
useful people, have to economize it. No intelligent per¬ 
son doubts the value of a good Story, whether told or 
written. In the domain of teaching, stories are scarce, 
and good stories are very scarce. One of the problems 
for the thoughtful educator of to-day is: How shall we 
get the teachers to better understand the nature of their 
business—the fundamental principles upon which it is 
based—the responsibilities and the opportunities which are 
theirs? Can this knowledge be gained better from learned 
treatise and plausible theory, or from actual experi¬ 
ence as given in story? This is the question; and while 
we agree that all these are good, and are used by the 
more thoughtful teachers, we must remember that many 
would-be teachers come to their work with little reading 
to stimulate thought, and with less experience. We must 
also remember that a story is refreshing to the older 
teachers, and that nine out of ten of the younger ones 
will read a story which combines logic and experience, 
giving incidents of interest which illustrate the things 
they should know, when they would not think of a ped- 
agogy. This principle has long since prevailed in the 
domains of history and the natural sciences; and our con¬ 
viction that it applies with equal force to the study of 


4 


publisher’s note. 


pedagogy among teachers, accounts for the publication 
of this little book, which we send out in the sincere hope 
that it will lead to a more intelligent appreciation of the 
teacher’s work, and to the greater strength which comes 
from a carefully selected teacher’s professional library. 
Parents and pupils can hardly fail to see more clearly 
their responsibilities for having read this story; and teach¬ 
ers will do well to aid us in placing it where it will ac¬ 
complish the desired results. All such co-operation will 
be much appreciated by the publishers. 

W. W. Knowles & Co. 


PREFACE. 


In writing this little book the author has not intended 
to startle the world with anything new in thought, or 
method, or discipline in school-work. Much less would 
he claim for the book any special literary merit. But 
from the experience of twenty years in actual school- 
work he has gathered a web of fact and experience, and 
interwoven with it that of which the world never tires— 
a love-story. 

The author has simply tried to give the tired and 
perhaps discouraged teacher a few hours of pleasant 
recreation, interspersed with practical suggestions, and 
an exalted ideal of the work of the teacher. 

The Author. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. 

Carl’s Infancy. 7 

CHAPTER II. 

Carl’s First Day at School. 18 

CHAPTER III. 

Carl’s Boyhood. 30 

CHAPTER IV. 

Carl and Dora. 48 

CHAPTER V. 

The Spelling School. 62 

CHAPTER VI. 

Carl at High School. 70 

CHAPTER VII. 

The Revival. 79 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Carl—the “Buckeye-Hawkeye”. 91 

CHAPTER IX. 

The Lost Letter. 109 

CHAPTER X. 

A Day’s Experience Copied From Carl’s Diary... 125 
CHAPTER XI. 

In the Rockies. 148 

CHAPTER XII. 

Home. 165 














BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE 

SCHOOL-MASTER 


CHAPTER I. 
carl's infancy. 

V 

"So too with man: he hastens from his birth 
To youth, to manhood, to maturity. 

And when, at length, when his life-work is done, 

He does but sleep awhile beneath the earth, 

To wake anew the Father’s face to see, 

In changeless realms of never endless sun.” 

"Hello, Doc! Hello! ” The sun was disappearing be¬ 
hind the rocky cliff. Dr. McKenzie, his wife Jane, with 
their four sons and two daughters—two sons having been 
laid in the village grave-yard—were seated at their even¬ 
ing meal. The simple thanksgiving had just been said, 
when from the pike came the sound, ‘‘Hello, Doc! 
Hello! ” 

It was a familiar sound to the whole family, for the 
Doctor had a large and lucrative practice. As usual, he 
immediately rose and started toward the door; but before 
reaching it he stopped and looked at his wife, and as 
their eyes met, hers plainly said, ‘‘I cannot be left alone 
to-night;” and his answered back, ‘‘You shall not be, 



8 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


Jane;” yet not a word was uttered by either. He turned 
and opened the door, and said, “Well what is it?” 

“Oh, Doc! get your horse and come quick. Tom Jones’ 
team ran off with him and threw him and his wife over 
High Bluff, and we fear they are both killed. Come at 
once. I’ll go right back and tell them you are coming." 

And before Dr. McKenzie had time to utter a word, 
the rider had put spurs to his horse and was gone. Again 
the Doctor turned to look for those eyes; the gentle 
hand of his wife was on his shoulder, her loving eyes 
were filled with tears, and with a husky voice she said: 
“Doctor, you shall go. The Heavenly Father will be 
kind, you know, and you’ll be back before morning.” 

A moment more, and Dr. McKenzie was in his saddle;\ 
Old Aunt Hannah Grubbs, an old faithful nurse, was on 
her way to his home for the night, and he went gallop¬ 
ing in the direction of the home of Tom Jones. The 
good wife, Jane, was the last of the family to retire for 
the night’s rest. As it was her custom in the absence 
of her husband, she called the family about her, read a 
chapter, and, kneeling, offered a simple prayer; then with 
the good-night kisses she saw that all were snugly 
tucked away for the night’s repose. 

Long she sat in front of the fire-place, gazing at the 
smoldering embers, a feeling of loneliness filling her 
heart. Now and then her face upturned, as if implor¬ 
ing divine aid; more than once a tear coursed its way 
down her cheek, and an audible sigh answered the heavy 
breathing of the sleepers in the adjoining room. 

At last she knelt, and with clasped hands and trusting, 
child-like faith, committed herself to the care of a loving 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


9 


Father—an earnest outpouring of the soul too sacred 
for these pages. 

To those who believe in divine blessings in answer 
to human prayer, I need not say she arose strengthened 
and reconciled. 

Just at the dawn of day Dr. McKenzie came gallop¬ 
ing up the pike, hitched his horse and entered his home. 
The first sound that met his ears was the cry of his 
new-born son, Carl McKenzie, the seventh son of the 
seventh son, and the hero of this story. 

A crystal stream, called “White Eyes Creek,” for cent¬ 
uries has wound its way among the hills and through 
one of the loveliest valleys of Southeast Ohio. Almost 
in the center of this valley was the town of Chili, a 
village characterized, as most villages are, by a black¬ 
smith-shop, wagon-shop, shoe-shop, harness-shop, J:in- 
shop, grocery store, and post-office. It also contained a 
church edifice and school-house. In this building the 
township officers held sway; here they were elected, 
sworn in, and administered the affairs of the township 
government. 

The village also had the notoriety of being situated 
at the “cross-roads.” Running parallel with the valley 
was the State road, and across it from east to west was 
the well-known “National Pike,” stretching like a blue 
streak from the Delaware to the Mississippi. 

In the western edge of the village, and a little south 
of £he pike, was the residence of Dr. McKenzie. With¬ 
out an exception it was the best and most commodious 
building in the village. In front of the house, running 
east and west, was a stone fence three feet high; the 


10 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


other three sides were inclosed by palings. Between 
the house and fence was a beautiful lawn, interspersed 
with evergreens, lilacs, and rose-bushes. Back of the 
house was the garden, in which grew sage, tansy, rue, 
parsley, shives, spearmint, winter onions, and garlic ; 
strawberries, raspberries, currants, gooseberries, and 
other garden vegetables. 

On the east was a spring of as clear pure water as ever 
bathed a human tongue or cooled the glottis of the 
thirsty brute. 

On the west was a high, precipitous, picturesque rocky 
cliff—the resort of the entire village populace on Sunday 
summer afternoons. 

Carl passed through early babyhood in much the same 
way as other babies do. He was fat, plump, and rosy; 
knew how to laugh the first thirty seconds of a minute, 
and to cry for the next hour. He had the happy 
faculty of knowing how to awake at any hour of the 
night, and letting all the household know that he was 
awake. 

He soon learned how to look straight at nothing, and 
to make the mother and everybody else believe that he 
was closely scrutinizing every object in the room. He 
always ended these very knowing observations with a 
satisfied yawning gape, a twisting up of the face and 
closing of the eyes in sleep. 

Carl’s mother was a woman of far more than ordinary 
native intelligence. She had a fair education, and «was 
exceedingly romantic and poetical; she was gentle and 
benevolent, usually looking on the bright side of life, 
and showed the depth and strength of her nature by 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


II 


bearing misfortune with fortitude. Prosperity to her was 
only valued when she could share it with others. 

The father had a robust constitution, black hair and 
beard, a keen, piercing black eye, and walked with elastic 
step and figure, as straight as an Indian; was quick in 
his decisions, firm in his convictions—fearless in their 
expression—conscientious, radical, determined in what¬ 
ever he attempted. Yet, withal no one was more 
gentle, kind, and loving. 

Both the Doctor and his wife appreciated and enjoyed 
the comforts and conveniences of their elegant home, 
and looked forward with the brightest hopes for the 
future. 

But, like thousands of other kind-hearted men, he had 
written his name too often as a pledge to pay other 
men’s debts. 

In the early autumn of the same year in which Carl 
was born, the following was found in the Coshocton 
Herald: "Sheriff’s Sale.— On the first day of September, 
18—, on the court-house steps, I will offer for sale to 
the highest bidder, to-wit: The following-described 

real estate,-located at Chili, White Eyes Creek, 

the elegant residence of Dr. McKenzie.” 

It might be well to add that not only the residence 
was sold at this time, but most of the household goods. 

A few days later, "on a cool September morn,” three 
covered wagons frdnting westward were seen in front of 
what had been the residence of Dr. McKenzie. Almost 
the entire village had gathered to say "Good-bye” to 
their old friends and neighbors. 

There was deeply depicted upon the face of every 



12 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


member of that household the earnest look which always 
comes before farewells are said; and yet, at such times, 
if one looks behind the cloud, they will be able to discern 
the strong sunlight of determination accompanied by 
the softer tintings of a bright hope for future years. 

The Doctor was all life and animation; every word 
and action seemed to show that he had made a correct 
“diagnosis” of the case, and knew just when and where 
and how to apply the remedies. 

The wife was all animation, too; but the fact that she 
drew over her face her sun-bonnet, and often used the 
handkerchief loosely held by her apron-strings, told too 
plainly of the cost to her of her separation from home, 
friends, and landscape which she had learned so much 
to love. 

Among the crowd who filled the yard and road, and 
stood around as at a funeral, talking in subdued tones, 
none attracted so much attention as Aunt Hannah 
Grubbs. She was small in stature, fat and rosy, in 
spite of age. Formerly a native of Carolina, she still 
retained the negro dialect. 

She dandled Carl in her arms. Not a single day 
since his birth, six months before, but she had coddled 
and petted “her baby,” as she was pleased to call him. 

“You darlin’ chile! ole Aunty nebber see yo’ no mo’; 
wish Aunty could steal the chile. Darlin’ honey, seems 
like Aunty carnt gib yo’ up, no how.” And then she 
would wipe her eyes with her apron, and Carl would 
put both his little arms around her neck and flood her 
cheek with kisses. 

“Well, all ready, boys?" said the Doctor. “All ready, 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


13 


Doc,” replied the teamsters. Then followed the hand¬ 
shaking and farewells, and "God bless you’s;” and as 
the teams slowly wended their way over the hills to the 
westward, and the Doctor and family looked back from 
the summit, a sea of waving handkerchiefs and hats met 
their farewell gaze. The Doctor lifted Carl above his 
head, and as they slowly disappared upon the western 
side of the hill, the last view that the assembly had of 
the McKenzie family was the white handkerchief waved 
in the morning breeze by the dimpled hand of Carl 
McKenzie. 

As the day passed on, new scenes and a bracing atmos¬ 
phere gave the travelers hope and vivacity. On the 
afternoon of the fifth day, the little company left the 
main State road, and took a less traveled thoroughfare, 
known as Coe’s Run Road. Finally this less frequented 
way was left, and they found that they must cut their 
way along a brook of limpid water, and through a forest 
of lofty sugar-trees. After following the stream for 
half a mile they came to its source, a gushing spring, 
and just here the valley widened a little. The teams 
were unhitched and a camp was formed. This was to be 
the home for six years of the boy, Carl McKenzie. 
There was not a stick amiss. One vast forest of oak, 
hickory, walnut, poplar, chestnut, and maple extended for 
miles in every direction, and on the summit of an adjacent 
hill were tall and slender pines, with thickets of ever¬ 
green laurel at their bases. 

Game was plenty; deer, wild turkey, gray squirrel, 
pheasants, etc., here found hundreds of secure retreats 
in which they were safe from even the most wily hunters. 


14 BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 

But to the tired mother there was little in this wild 
woodland scene that seemed home-like or restful; and no 
wonder if the heart ached, and the eyes filled, as the 
thoughts of the dear old home so lately left came unbid¬ 
den into her mind. But the merry voices of her chil¬ 
dren, Dr. McKenzie’s brisk, cheerful tones, and, above all, 
the caresses from the dimpled hands of baby Carl, filled 
heart and mind with brighter thoughts; and, true woman 
that she was, she found life’s sweetest blessings in the 
companionship of her children. 

The erection of a log cabin was the work of but a few 
days. No time was taken to hew the logs. They were 
builded in, chinked and daubed, as they came from the 
primitive forest. A large, flat, smooth stone was pro¬ 
cured for the hearth, and from that as a base a large out¬ 
side stone chimney was built. The old-fashioned crane 
was firmly fastened on the inside, and the “Dutch 
oven," in which many a delicious “pone” was baked and 
many a fat turkey was roasted, found its place on this 
hearth-stone. , 

The scenery around this humble cabin was exceed¬ 
ingly beautiful. The great bubbling spring, with its 
bowl-shaped basin, sent forth its cool, clear waters rip¬ 
pling over the snowy pebbles. Beautiful brooklet! 

“How quiet thy bosom, all transparent as the crystal, 

Lest the curious eye thy secret scan, thy smooth round pebbles count! 

How without malice, murmuring, glides thy current— 

O, sweet simplicity of days gone by 

Thou shunnest the haunts of men to dwell in limpid fount.” 

The surrounding hills, emerald-capped with pine 
and laurel—the stately poplar and massive oak—the 
song of bird and the odor of flowers—draw the soul 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


15 


into nearness with nature’s God. They are Heaven’s first 
book to man. 

“The groves were God’s first temples.” It is not to be 
wondered that Carl McKenzie became a lover of nat¬ 
ure with such surroundings. Nor is it strange that, as 
the years went by, he became familiar with the habits 
of squirrel and wren, rabbit and pewit. Just across the 
brink was the stable, where, each returning spring, the 
pewit and the swallow built their nests’ and the martin 
found his home. 

Dr. McKenzie was a practical botanist himself, and 
many were the delightful talks he had with Carl, as they 
wandered together over the hills, stopping hereto exam¬ 
ine the beautiful white umbel of the ginseng ( aralia ), 
or there to look at the raceme of the cohosh' ( ranuncn - 
laceoe). The Doctor Vvas a great lover of both gun and 
rod, and Carl and his dog Fido were his frequent com¬ 
panions. Carl having inherited from his mother a love 
of the beautiful in nature, these rambles tended to in¬ 
tensify this passion—for passion it really was. 

After the cabin was made comfortable, Dr. McKenzie 
and his older sons found constant employment in clear¬ 
ing, fencing the new farm, in burning the logs and brush 
from the clearing; and in the early spring all were busy 
helping in the sugar-making. 

Near the log cabin stood the sugar-house, a building 
almost as large as the cabin itself. Through the center 
ran the furnace, with a capacity for six large kettles, hold¬ 
ing from one-half to one barrel each. On one side, run¬ 
ning the whole length, was the huge hollowed trough, 
capable of holding ten barrels. Two hundred and fifty 


1 6 BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 

trees yielded from ten to fifteen barrels per day. This 
amount was gathered each day by the older boys, and 
hauled in a hogshead on a sled, drawn by Buck and 
Berry, two sturdy oxen. Carl became driver at the age 
of five. Sometimes he would ride on the sled, and some¬ 
times on Buck. 

Carl, for the first seven years of his life, was his own 
play-fellow. There were none younger in the family 
than he, and the sister next older was five years his sen¬ 
ior. True, she was often his companion and playfellow, 
and in later years his counselor, and he loved her with 
great fervency, but, after all, he was still alone in his 
childish sports. His surroundings, his outdoor exercise, 
his climbing, and running, and building, only added 
strength te his already naturally strong constitution, and 
his solitary life gave him a peculiarly quiet self-reliance. 
He was necessarily his own counselor. He became ex¬ 
ceedingly shy of strangers and very reticent; but, on the 
other hand, he made companions of the animals and birds, 
and the plants and trees around him. 

His life, thus far, was that of supreme innocence; at 
the age of seven he did not know the meaning of the words 
“steal,” “lie,” or “swear." He could recall but two pun¬ 
ishments from his parents during this period of his life. 
The first was from his mother. He had heard his broth¬ 
ers tell about going in swimming, and thinking that he 
would like to do as the larger boys did, he slipped down 
to the bank of the little stream one afternoon and enjoy¬ 
ed a bath all alone; but when the bath was over, some¬ 
how he could not readjust his clothing, and in his nu¬ 
dity and humility was compelled to present himself to 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


17 


his mother and plead for mercy—and the mercy came in 
the form of a first-class spanking. The second was from 
the Doctor. Carl slipped the old rifle down one day 
when the family weie in the upper corn-field, and shot a 
hole through his father’s favorite rooster. Carl never 
learned whether the punishment was for the taking of the 
gun or the shooting of the cock. 

At six years of age Carl was a fine equestrian, and 
could ride old Charley on a gallop, standing up or sitting 
backward, using his steed’s tail for a bridle. 


2 


CHAPTER II. 


carl's first day at school. 

Coe’s Run school-house was one mile and a half dis¬ 
tant from Carl’s home. The house was a comparatively 
large one, built of hewn logs, lighted by six windows— 
three on either side—seated with desks made out of pop¬ 
lar lumber by a home mechanic; heated by a large "ten 
plate" placed in the center of the room. There was one 
blackboard, four by six feet, back of the teacher’s desk, 
and opposite the door. 

The teacher was a young man whose father resided in 
the district, and was the class-leader of the little band 
of devout Methodists who met every Sunday in the 
school-house for worship. John Tracy—for that was his 
name—was every whit a gentleman. He was five feet 
eight, and weighed one hundred and sixty pounds; had 
brown hair and gray eyes; was smooth shaven—affable 
and talkative. He was a general favorite, not only with 
his pupils, but in the entire neighborhood. His educa¬ 
tion was only such as he had been able to gather from 
the district school. 

All of the McKenzie boys and girls were regular at¬ 
tendants at school, excepting Carl. He had never ex¬ 
pressed any desire to go, and Dr. McKenzie, as well as 
his wife Jane, firmly believed that a permanent injury 

18 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


19 


is done the child by sending him to school at too early 
an age—especially under the school regime of those days, 
before the kindergarten schools were known. The 
Doctor argued that the child would become disgusted 
with the routine of school-work before the mind was 
sufficiently developed to appreciate the benefits of in¬ 
struction. He was also a firm believer in the benefits of 
home influence. He knew that his wife was a close student 
of the best authors of her day, and, like himself, a student 
of nature. He knew, too, that his boy would develop 
more symmetrically—intellectually, morally, and physic¬ 
ally, under their immediate care, than in the cramming 
process of the school. He was a personal friend of the 
teacher, Mr. Tracy, but he well knew that Mr. Tracy 
had never made a close study of what it was to mold 
and fashion a human soul—with all his good intentions 
he knew that he was blindly experimenting with Heav¬ 
ens choicest material, marring daily the noblest work 
of God. The Doctor well knew that his child could be 
a child but once. He knew that right development at 
this age meant everything to the child, not only now , but 
’ in eternity, and that mistakes now would be most ruinous. 
He knew that Mr. Tracy had the best intentions, but 
he also knew that he had entered upon his work without 
the faintest idea of the responsibility assumed or the 
end to be secured. He knew Mr. Tracy was not an ob¬ 
server of the works of nature about him; that he had 
never been a student of history; that his eyes had 
never seen the names, Pestalozzi, Froebel, Page, and 
Mann. He knew that such an individual, however well 
disposed, could never inspire childhood with those no- 


20 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


bier impulses and desires which nothing but further 
progress can satisfy. He could never nurture and develop 
in his pupils self-reliance, which nothing but impossi¬ 
bilities can ever subdue. He had never realized that this 
was any part of his duty in the school-room. He could 
not lift and elevate the whole being of the child into 
the realm of higher ideals, holier impulses, and greater 
responsibilities. 

At Christmas-time, Mr. Tracy treated the entire 
school, and also sent a liberal supply to Carl by his 
eldest sister. 

This was a revelation to Carl. If school was the 
place to get candy, then he was ready for school. At 
the evening meal, Carl began: 

“Father—mother—don’t }^ou think I am about old 
enough to go to school? I just believe I’d like to go— 
can I?" 

“Father and mother would be so lonesome all daylong 
with no little boy to chatter and to help,” said his 
mamma. 

Carl’s face at once became sober and thoughtful, and 
presently, through his tears, he said: 

“But, mother, I must be educated, you know—and you 
and father went to school, didn’t you? and didn’t your 
father and mother stay at home?” 

“Well, Carl, if you think you could leave father and 
mother—how about Fido, and Nale, and Bunnie, and 
Tortoise, and the chickens? They would all miss you, I 
am sure,” said his papa. 

“I suppose they would miss me, and I suppose they 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


21 


would have to get used to it—that’s what I suppose,” 
said Carl. 

"Do let him go, mother,” said Bess. 

When Monday morning came, Carl was among the 
number who wended their way to Coe’s Run school- 
house. He had fondled all his pets, and left many lov¬ 
ing kisses on the lips of his parents—had swallowed the 
lump in his throat a thousand times—and resolved that 
he would be educated—whatever that might mean. He 
stopped at the fodder rack, to pat Buck and Berry, and 
to tell them good-bye. When the bars at the end of the 
lane were reached, he climbed up on top of the post and 
looked back, but could see nothing but the blue smoke 
curling up from the top of the chimney. For a moment 
his resolution almost failed him, and in his little heart 
he said: 'Tm going back.” 

He knew a warm embrace would greet him if he did 
go back; but just as he faltered, his brother Dick fright¬ 
ened a rabbit .out of a brush-heap, and with a whoop 
and halloo, they all ran after it down the road. Carl’s 
chase quickened his pulse, and now that he could see 
his home no more, he could better keep his resolution. 

As they reached the school-house door, Carl walked 
nearer the side of his sister Bess, who took him by the 
hand, and they entered the school-room together. School 
had not yet called. There was a warm fire, a cheerful 
air, and all seemed orderly and home-like. Mr. Tracy 
came forward and greeted all the McKenzies, and shook 
hands with Carl. I wish to mention here that Carl was 
a fair reader at this time in McGuffey’s Eclectic First 
Reader, and had a copy of that book with him. 


22 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


When nine o’clock arrived, Mr. Tracy went to the 
door, and with a two-foot walnut ruler tapped on the 
weather-boarding, and in a few seconds all the pupils 
were pleasantly seated in the school-room, The teacher 
read a chapter, made a short prayer, and then all sang a 
song, and the work of the day began. 

Carl was in a new world. Since he had entered the 
school room, no thoughts of dear parents and pets at 
home had entered his mind. He was enraptured with 
all around him. This to him was the grandest place he 
had ever been. No one had been unkind, or seemed un¬ 
kind; every face around him beamed with contentment 
and happiness, and his little soul caught the inspira¬ 
tion. 

It was Mr. Tracy’s custom to begin the lessons of 
the day with his Abecedarians. As Carl sat like one who 
had been suddenly transported to a new world and given 
a position of honor and responsibility, and as one would 
try, under such circumstances, to get their bearings, and 
do just the right thing and nothing else, so Carl was 
trying to adjust himself to his new surroundings. The 
silence of the room was broken by the teacher, who said: 
"Bennie St. Clair, Pearl Boblit, and Carl McKenzie 
may come and say their lesson." At the mention of the 
new name every eye was turned on Carl, and he keenly 
felt the gaze. When he attempted to rise he seemed 
fastened to his seat. Just as the tears began to fill his 
eyes he looked at Bess; she gave him an encouraging 
smile and a pleasant nod; then the anchorage to the 
seat was loosened, and he advanced with the other boys 
to the knees of the teacher. Mr. Tracy met all the boys 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


23 


with a smile, placed a gentle hand on Carl’s head, and 
said: 

“We are glad you are going to be in our class.” 

“So am I” said Carl; I think school is real nice.” 

This was spoken in a clear tone, and caused a smile all 
over the room. The teacher then took Carl’s book, and 
opening to the alphabet, began by pointing to the letters 
and saying, “A,” “B,” “C,” etc., and all the boys repeated 
after him. After going up and down the column several 
times in this way, Carl said, “Mr. Teacher, I know 
all those,” and before the teacher could reply, Carl began, 
and repeated them, both downward and upward, faster 
than the teacher could follow with his pencil. Mr. Tracy 
smiled, and then took Bennie’s book—McGuffey’s Speller 
—and opening it, pointed to the first word at the top, 
turning the book toward Bennie, who said “B A;” and 
the teacher said, “ba; ” “b a,” said Bennie. “B a spells 
bah,” said Carl; “thats, what the sheep say. My father 
said so, and he knows.” This speech brought the whole 
school in sympathy with the teacher, and disgusted with 
Carl. Mr. Tracy simply said, “Well, we will continue to 
say our lesson; ” and so the pencil traveled over ba, be^ 
bi, bo, bu—the teacher saying them first and the boys 
after him. When the first line was finished Carl said: 
“Ba-be, ba-bi, ba-bo, ba-bu. Ha! that’s funny! Mr. 
Teacher, what’s it mean? Are we getting.an education? 
Father said we go to school to get an education. 
Mr. Teacher, I saw a rabbit this morning coming to 
school. Did you see one? I have a pet rabbit at home. 
Rabbits can do something we can’t—they can put one ear 
back and one forward, and we can’t do that.” 


24 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


"Why do they do that, Carl?” said Mr. Tracy. 

"Why, they can hear both ways, so nothing can catch 
them,” said Carl. 

Mr. Tracy had never made this observation. 

"And I have a pet tortoise, too,” said Carl. ”Do you 
know how tortoises talk? When mine gets hungry he 
mews just like a little kitten,” said Carl. 

"And what does your tortoise eat?” said the teacher. 

"He eats bead and milk in the winter-time. He can’t 
lap his milk like a dog, but just puts his under jaw into 
it and then raises his head and lets it run down. 
In the summer-time he catches flies and crickets. 
Would you like me to tell you how he gets on top of 
his box in the chimney-corner? I set the box, you 
know, right close to the jamb, and he puts his hind legs 
against the jamb and his forelegs on the slats of the box 
and goes up, tail first, till he gets as high as the box, 
and then he lets go and flops right over on top of the 
box. Say, Mr. Teacher, did you ever see two toads 
fight?” 

As Mr. Tracy had never observed a pugilistic combat 
of this kind, he thought it well to close the recitation 
and hear the next class; so the boys were dismissed and 
sent to their seats. 

Carl sat down and clasped his hands around one knee, 
which he slightly elevated above the other, and began 
again to take in his surroundings. He looked at the teach¬ 
er admiringly for some time, and then watched the other 
pupils. It was a real workshop. All seemed to be 
busy; every eye seemed riveted upon book or slate, and 
every lip was moving. Carl could not understand the 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


25 


moving lips. His mother had never allowed him to 
move his lips while studying. He also observed that 
many of them often seemed to count their fingers, and 
this he could not understand. He wanted to do just as 
the others did, but he could not make out just what the 
others were doing. So, in his anxiety and innocence, and 
with no thought of interruption, he said: 

“Mr. Teacher, what are they all doing with their lips 
and their fingers?” 

“Never mind, Carl,” said Mr. Tracy; “you study your 
lesson.” 

Carl sat in silence some time, and then the big 
tears began to come; and jumping down from his seat he 
ran to Mr. Tracy and sobbed: “But I don’t know what 
you mean by ‘study your lesson/ where is my lesson?” 

And the teacher remembered that he had not assigned 
the child a lesson, and had said nothing about what it was 
to study. Borrowing a speller from Bess, he turned to 
the page of ba, be, etc., and told Carl to say those over 
and over until he knew them all. 

Carl went to his seat, and for a time seemed happy in 
.conning over the lesson. 

Recess came, and Carl found a seat on the teacher’s lap. 

“What made you send me that candy?” said Carl. 

“Oh, because I thought you would like it—most boys 
do.” 

“How often do you give them candy?” 

"Once a year,” said Mr. Tracy. 

“I’ll make you a sugar egg when sugar-making 
comes,” said Carl. “Why don’t all trees have sweet 
water, so we could have oak sugar, and poplar sugar, 


26 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


and pine sugar?” Carl put his hand in his pocket 
and pulled out some wintergreen leaves, and said: 
‘‘Do you like wintergreen? The berries are so fine 
just now. Father and I were on the hill yesterday, and 
gathered these. Father showed me the flowers last May; 
they are so white—I mean the corolla; that’s what father 
calls it—corolla, and calyx, and stamens, and pistils— 
such queer names, but I can spell them, every one. I wish 
I had a flower now to tear to pieces and look at—don’t 
you? You could tell me something about it could’nt 
you—and would that be education? Say, isn’t the 
laurels just beautiful when they get in bloom. The 
flowers are white and rose, you know, and they are poison 
too—but then we wouldn’t eat them, not for anything; if 
we did they would kill us, sure. You know the corolla 
is monopetalous—I can’t spell that long word, but I know 
how to say it—and the flowers have just lots of honey. 
Bees don’t get that honey—the cup’s too deep—but the 
humming-birds do. Oh say, Mr. Teacher, did you ever 
see a humming-bird’s nest? It’s just the cutest thing 
Father and I found one on a beech tree, and I cried be¬ 
cause he wouldn’t let me take just one of the little eggs to 
show mother: but when father went to town, mother 
and I .went over the hill, and she climbed up and saw 
them—and that’s our secret.” 

Mr. Tracy said: ‘‘Well, Carl, it is time for books.” 
Again the familiar rap was heard on the weather-board¬ 
ing, the ball was pocketed, the bat laid aside, and the 
big girls put away their knitting and gave up their seats 
around the stove. The teacher opened the stove-door, 
raked the coals forward, put in some more wood, and 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL MASTER 


2 7 


walked slowly to his desk. He sat longer than usual 
before calling his classes. The pupils noticed that he 
seemed to be dreaming. At last he aroused himself, 
assumed his naturally pleasant and cheerful air, and 
called the boys again—Ben, Pearl, and Carl. It was the 
same old routine. All work stopped for a moment when 
Carl’s time came to recite, and all eyes were turned 
upon him, to see what the boy might say this time; but 
Carl took his turn and said his letters, and then let his 
little mind wander away to his pets. The lesson 
was over and he was seated again, and nothing occurred 
of special interest to him until the last class before 
noon was called—this was the big spelling-class; they 
formed a line along one side of the room, and when one 
missed, the other spelled and went up. Carl noticed 
that Bess was at the foot of the class, and he felt much 
humiliated; but one time after another she went up 
(Carl’s interest in the spelling and the pride in his 
sister increasing as she neared the upper end of the line), 
and when on the very last word of the lesson she went 
head, Carl could no longer control his excitement, 
but ran across the room, and putting both arms around 
her neck, kissed her, much to the discomfiture of Bess 
and to the amusement of both pupils and teacher. 

The class numbered—the next lesson was assigned— 
the class dismissed—books laid aside—and the noon- 
hour was on. 

Carl and the teacher had a long walk and talk at 
noon. As they turned the angle at the jutting of the 
hill road, Carl caught a glimpse of the smoke curling 
up from the chimney of his cabin home. The sun was 


28 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


shining warm, and not a breath of air was stirring; it was 
one of those perfect winter days which our weather 
prophets call “the weather-breeders.” The sight of 
home was too much for Carl. He pointed to the smoke 
and said: “I wonder how my pets are; I expect they 
would like to see me pretty well, don’t you? and I guess 
Td like to see them, too?” 

“You may go home if you wish, Carl,” said Mr. Tracy. 

“May I? Let me kiss you—I like you real well; you 
don’t seem away off, do you? Have I got enough educa¬ 
tion for one day? I’ll tell father and mother all about 
ba, be, bi—won’t that be nice? And I’ll tell mother 
how easy it is to whisper my lesson and count my fingers; 
but I couldn’t count }4s and and }4s on my fingers— 
but you needn’t tell me how now, for I believe I’d like 
to get home pretty soon ; but I love you lots. How many 
things school-teachers must know! Does it make you 
tired to know so many things? I’d think it would; I’m 
real tired with just a half day of it. But I like it; 
ba, be, bi — isn’t that funny? I’m going to say it real 
fast to Bunnie, and see if he won’t go to sleep.” 

Mr. Tracy took Carl up in his arms, kissed him, and 
said: 

“You have taught me a lesson too, Carl. I am 
the gainer to-day; so, my little fellow, good-bye, and 
come back again to-morrow." 

Carl said “Good-byee, ” and was soon out of sight down 
the road. 

Mr. Tracy folded his arms behind him and walked 
slowly back to the school-house. The pupils noticed 
that Carl was not with him, and made many conject- 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


29 


ures as to what had happened to him, but Mr. Tracy 
explained at once to Bess that Carl had wanted to go 
home, and he had thought best to let him go. 

When John Tracy lay down to sleep that night, he made 
the same choice that Solomon had made centuries before. 
He poured out his love to the Heavenly Father, and 
asked for wisdom; his responsibility had dawned upon 
him. He began to see that an education did not con¬ 
sist in the dull routine of text-book recitations, and he 
firmly resolved henceforth he himself would be a stu¬ 
dent not only of the text- book, but of the great book of 
Nature. This day’s experience had taught him that in 
order to do this work that he had taken upon himself, 
his mind must needs be a well-filled store-house from 
which “To pour the fresh instructions o’er the mind, 
to breathe the enlivening spirit, and to fix the generous 
purpose in the glowing breast.” He felt keenly his 
ignorance of the most common things about him. He 
likewise had a glimpse of the possibilities of the minds 
he was trying to educate. With tearful eyes, in the 
silence of his chamber, he said: “Thank you, Carl 
McKenzie —thousand times I thank you." His soul 
began to catch a glimpse of this truth, that— 

“ If there is anything that will endure. 

The eyes of God because it still is pure, 

It is the spirit of a little-child, 

Fresh from his hand, and therefore undefiled. 

Nearer the gate of Paradise than we, 

Our children breath its airs, its angels see.” 


/ 


CHAPTER III. 

carl’s boyhood. 

“So all night long the storm roared on— 

The morning awoke without a sun, 

In tiny sperule, traced with lines 
Of nature’s geometric signs; 

In starry flake and pellicle, 

And all day the hoary meteor fell; 

And, when the second morning shone, 

We looked upon a world unknown, 

On nothing we could call our own. ” 

— J. G. Whittier. 

The night of the day when Carl bade good-bye to his 
teacher was long known on Coe’s Run as the night of 
the great snow-storm. Carl never went back as a pupil 
to the old log school-house. 

Dr. McKenzie and his wife found many hardships 
in subduing *the native forest and making a home 
for their children. The cares and burdens of pioneer 
life were too heavy for the devoted wife and mother. 
The Doctor could observe her failing strength, as well 
as his own; and one day, receiving a fair offer for the 
farm, they decided to sell, and the Doctor moved, 
again assuming the duties of his chosen profession. 

Six miles south of Coe’s Run is a beautiful level 
plain—stretching from the hills, which rise abruptly 
from the east bank of Salt Creek, to the old city of 
Chillicothe, a distance of twelve miles. The plain is 
from two to five miles wide, and contains some of the 
. 30 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


31 


finest farms and the wealthiest farmers in Ohio. The 
Baltimore & Ohio Railroad runs lengthwise through this 
plain, and had just been completed to Chillicothe at this 
time. 

Nestled near the hills, on the east side of this plain, 
was the beautiful village of Griffinsville. A more beau¬ 
tiful location for a town or city could not have been 
chosen. There was one long main street, running east 
and west. The farthest house east was the M. E. 
Church, and in the west part of town was the Friends’ 
Church. The school-house was a frame building, and 
was located one-half mile east of town. Just at the 
edge of a great forest, and not more than one hundred 
yards farther, was a clear brook of running water, which 
found its source far up in the forest, and which wended 
its way some two miles farther on before it joined its 
waters with those of Salt Creek. 

The day on which Dr. McKenzie moved to Griffins¬ 
ville, Carl was just eight years old. Carl rode with his 
parents in the first wagon, and just as they were enter¬ 
ing town they met some boys about Carl’s size, going 
' fishing. As they passed the boys eyed him closely, and 
Carl heard one of them say: 

“By jings! he’s a hill angel! We’ll lick him.” 

And when all the teams had passed them, the boys 
yelled out: “Hill angels! Hill angels!” 

Carl did not know what “hill angel” meant, but some¬ 
thing seemed to tell him that it meant trouble of some 
sort for him. He wanted to ask his parents about it, 
but they were busy talking, and he hoped they had not 
heard it. 


32 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


That evening, after supper, Carl was swinging on the 
front gate, and listening to the music of a violin across 
the street. Carl had never heard instrumental music of 
any kind up to this time, and was delighted with the 
sweet tones as they filled the quiet evening air. He 
had almost forgotten the newness of his surroundings 
in the keenness of his enjoyment as he listened tq the 
simple melody, that sounded to him the perfection of 
harmony. 

As he was looking and listening, two boys came along 
—Zip Hammond, and Em Brown (Brown’s name was 
Emerson, but everybody called him Em). 

“Well, cap, what’s you doin’?” said Zip, knocking off 
Carl’s cap as he spoke. 

Carl made no effort to pick up his cap—did not seem 
angry, but simply held on to the gate, and eyed the boys. 
Zip said: 

“Let’s see how much there is of him. Say, lad, 
what’s your name?" 

Carl looked at him sidewise, and then turned his face 
again in the direction of the music, without saying a 
word. The boys, who were both several years older than 
Carl, were much amused at his peculiar manner, and re¬ 
traced their steps until they stood one on either side of 
the gate. Carl looked first at one and then at the 
other, and finally said to Zip: 

“Mister, won’t you please pick up my hat and put it 
on my head?” 

It was said so firmly and so pleasantly that Zip could 
do nothing but obey; and when the hat was replaced on 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


33 


his head, Carl said, “Thank you.” Then, turning his 
mild blue eyes full upon Em, he said: 

“What is it I hear across the road? It sounds like 
the thrush, and the red-bird, and the cat-bird,, all sing¬ 
ing at once.” 

“That’s a fiddle,” said Em. 

And Carl looked across the street again for a n^pment 
and then said: 

“Is a fiddle a bird?” 

“He’s a greeny !” said Zip. “My! what fun the boys’ll 
have with him ! ” 

Carl paid no attention to what Zip said, but kept his 
eye steadily on Em for his answer. Just at this mo¬ 
ment the door across the street was opened, and the 
gentleman who was playing placed a chair on the porch, 
sat down, crossed his legs, put his fiddle to his chin, and 
began a lively air. Carl’s delight was unbounded. The 
boys little by little led him into conversation; and, I 
must add, before they left they were his warm friends, 
and always remained such. 

The winter school had closed, and there was no sum¬ 
mer school in Griffinsville this year. Carl had a varied 
experience during the summer months. He made friends 
at once with the boys. He soon learned to play truant 
from home, and go swimming. The boys’ swimming-hole 
was nearly a mile from town, it was a secluded spot— 
Blue Lick running close to the side of the hill, with 
massive rocks jutting out from its rugged front, and 
forming almost a canopy over the swimming-hole. The 
rocks were overgrown with ferns, sweet-williams, wild 
pinks, and rattlesnake-root. The boys were delighted 
3 


34 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


with Carl’s knowledge of these plants, as well as with the 
facility with which he could name every tree and shrub, 
and every kind of bird, bug, and worm. He soon learned 
to swim, and became an expert at playing marbles, ball, 
mumble-peg, and old sow. He could walk the top board 
of a fence, or stand on his head. There were two 
things, however, that Carl could not do successfully— 
jump and wrestle; but he could “out-wind” all the boys 
on a foot-race, and could climb to the top of a service 
bush or cherry tree sooner than any other boy. All the 
boys in this town seemed to know how to swear, and it 
is not to be wondered at that Carl learned this habit 
too. I cannot say that he never told lies to save him¬ 
self from a whipping—possibly he did. I am also inclined 
to believe that a few times in his early life, he stole— 
in company with other boys—apples, pears, peaches, and 
possibly plums, from Zimmon’s orchard. 

The deacons of the church organized what was known 
in this town as the “Juvenile Try Company.” It was a 
secret society, and met once a week in the upstairs paint- 
room over Wheeler’s wagon-shop. It had a written ritu¬ 
alistic initiation. Each boy was introduced into the 
room blindfolded. The chief of the society possessed a 
magic-lantern—a thing none of the boys had ever seen 
until initiated; the boy was brought to face a large 
screen, and then in the darkened room his mask was re¬ 
moved, and he gradually saw the evolution of a picture. 
The first one was that of a boy hanging head-downward 
from an apple tree, the seat of his pants caught on a 
snag of the limb, a bull-dog with open mouth ready to 
catch him, and the red apples dropping from his pockets. 


BUCKEYE- HANVKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


35 


The object of this picture was to teach the evils of 
stealing. I fear it would not be right for me to divulge 
any more of the secrets, for this society may still be in 
existence. Every boy pledged himself not to swear, lie, 
steal, skate on Sunday, play truant, smoke old cigar- 
stumps picked up off Brown’s corner. The temptations 
to break these pledges came thick and fast, and before 
a month every boy had become a criminal—Carl with 
the rest; but doubtless this society did much good, and 
the boys made better men for having belonged. 

Carl made one acquaintance in this town which I must 
not fail to mention. It was that of old Aunt Amy Snow. 
She was tall, swarthy, bony, and walked with a limp, 
owing to a fever-sore on her ankie. She lived all alone, 
washed for a living, and was the universal favorite of 
the boys, not one of them but would fight for her. She 
lived in a log-house containing but one room, on one 
side of which was a large fire-place. The furniture con¬ 
sisted of a bed in one corner, a table, and an old tool- 
chest, a dresser containing some old dishes, a few chairs, 
a large rifle on hooks over the door, an ancestral clock, 
.and various articles of clothing hung on wooden pins 
around the wall. Here, night after night, the boys would 
meet to parch corn and listen to the blood-curdling 
ghost and murder stories told by Aunt Amy. I am not 
allowed to say whether the boys ever brought dressed 
chickens, eggs, sweet potatoes, or anything of the kind, 
to test Aunt Amy’s culinary ability; but I can say that 
many a boy’s hair stood on end as he went home alone, 
on dark nights, from these corn-poppings. 

Poor old Aunt Amy Snow passed away. One morning 


36 BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE school-master 

no smoke was seen to ascend from her chimney; the cit¬ 
izens hurried in. The coroner’s jury said, "Died of 
heart-disease.’’ Every boy in that town attended the 
funeral, and they placed on the plain casket a wreath of 
flowers with these words, "Our Aunty.” 

Notwithstanding Dr. McKenzie entered at once into 
a large practice, he still found time for many a ramble 
in the woods with Carl, and Fido always accompanied 
them on such occasions. The Doctor was also fond of 
angling, and taking little Carl behind him as he rode on 
Zack, they were often seen on their way over the hill to 
Salt Creek; nor did they return empty-handed. 

During all these rambles the Doctor never failed to im¬ 
press some lesson, to point out some beauty in nature, or 
to impart some moral lesson in the mind of his boy. He 
often said: "Carl, you must always be look, look, looking, 
and think, think, thinking.” 

In that day there was much drunkenness in Griffins- 
ville. There were two taverns, and both of them sold 
liquors. Every Saturday, every election-day, every legal 
holiday, meant plenty of drinks and plenty of fights. 
Carl witnessed many a hard fist-fight; at first he was 
much frightened, but soon became accustomed to such 
scenes. Many a time he secretly untied old Funger’s 
neglected horse, and let him go home to his provender, 
while old Funger was dead-drunk in Brown’s stable. 

At last the hot summer months had passed away, and 
the cool breezes from North Land began to paint the 
maple leaves. The poplar and sassafras changed their 
hues, and the sumach was dressed in royal robes. The 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


37 


dog-wood berries were turning red, and the chestnut burrs 
showed signs of opening. 

Autumn’s earliest frost has given — 

“To the woods below 
Hues of beauty, such as heaven 
Lendeth to its own.” 

The blackbirds gathered in flocks; the catbird and 
thrush had gone; the quails were no more seen in pairs 
by the road-side, but went whirring past in great flocks; 
the rabbits were more timid, and darted across the road 
and disappeared in the tall grass of the fence-corner. 

‘The melancholy days had come 
The saddest of the year.” 

The school board had already employed their teacher 
for the coming year—by name Simeon R. Smiley. Mr. 
Smiley was a gentleman about fifty years of age. He stood 
six feet two, was slender but muscular; long arms, and 
but little beard on the cheeks; keen gray eyes, and a large 
hawk-bill nose. He had once been afflicted with 
catarrh, and hence had a nasal twang in his speech. He 
opened school on the second Monday in September, with 
at least sixty pupils in attendance, and among the num¬ 
ber Carl McKenzie. 

A long list of rules was read, and at the close of the 
reading the pupils who would agree to obey them were 
asked to stand. All stood except Carl. The teacher 
looked at him over his glasses a minute, and then remov¬ 
ing his glasses said: 

“So I have one boy who does not expect to obey me, 
have I?” 

Carl immediately arose and said: 

“Mr. Teacher, I intend to obey you; but I did not 


38 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


know the meaning of nearly all you ready and I thought 
I would be telling you a lie if I stood up.” 

“The boy means well,” said Mr. Smiley; “‘all be 
seated.” 

The larger pupils were all seated in comfortable 
desks placed near the walls. On three sides of 
the room the smaller boys and girls formed three 
sides of an inside square, sea f ed on benches 
without backs—the benches were too high for most of 
their feet to touch the floor. Carl read with the first- 
reader-class; and for some reason it was deathly still 
in the room the first time he read—possibly because he 
was a new boy, or possibly because he had been taught 
expression, and knew the meaning of what he read. 

The teacher compelled this class, as he did all the 
classes in reading, to stop and count at each grammat¬ 
ical pause —one at a comma, two at a semi-colon, etc. 

Carl had an experience the second day of this term. 
He was still in possession of one of his baby-teeth, but 
it was very loose—at least, seemingly so. Dear reader, 
you have had loose teeth too—I know you have. While 
the big arithmetic class was reciting, Neal Johnson pre¬ 
vailed on Carl to tie a string around the tooth and let 
him jerk it out; just as the string was firmly tied 
around the tooth, and Carl was handing the loose end 
to Neal, Mr. Smiley turned and smiled. He walked 
leisurely back to where Carl sat, took hold of the end 
of the string, and led Carl to the door-knob. Fasten¬ 
ing the end firmly to the knob, he brandished his stick 
as though he would strike Carl in the face, and the 
tooth came out. Carl never recalled this incident in 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


39 


after life without feelings of the deepest indignation. 
How few there are who know how to temper absolute 
authority with deeds of kindness and charity. 

Carl’s second experience with Mr. Smiley was brought 
about by an incident in town. An artist taking daguer¬ 
reotypes came to Griffinsville. Carl and Charley Dum- 
mond immediately set up a* gallery in McKenzie’s 
wood-shed, and took pictures for the boys, using poke- 
berry juice for paint—so many marbles, ginger-cakes, 
etc., would pay for a picture. The boys did a thriving 
business. In fact, they had so much to do they got 
behind in filling orders, so on Tuesday afternoon at 
recess they quietly crept along the old rail-fence toward 
town, entered the alley, slipped along to the door, and 
entering the wood-shed, quietly went to work. All next 
day nothing was said by the teacher of the truancy; 
when time to dismiss for the evening, Carl and Charley 
remained. To their honor, be it said, they confessed 
the whole matter, and told no lies. The teacher asked 
them to remove their waistcoats, and with a keen hick¬ 
ory he marked the boys. When he was through, he 
said: 

“Do you boys think you will play truant again?’ 

Charles immediately answered: “No, teacher, I won’t.” 

“What have you to say, Carl McKenzie?” said Mr. 
Smiley. 

“Nothing, sir; I suppose I deserved this whipping, 
and if you will excuse me I am ready to go home.” 

“But will you promise to not truant again?” 

“No, sir; I shall not promise." 

The teacher dismissed Charles and retained Carl. 


4 o 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


"Now, sir, why will you not promise to not truant 

again? ” 

"Because I may decide to do so, and I do not wish to 
lie.” 

"I shall tell your father, Carl, and unless you do bet¬ 
ter, I shall have to whip you again severely." 

“Oh, I shall tell father all about it as soon as I get 
home; and I guess I'll show him my knees, too,” said 
Carl. 

“Your knees? What do you mean?” 

Carl rolled up his pants, and just above each 
knee it was black and blue where Mr. Smiley had struck 
him as he passed, almost hourly, inside the little square. 

‘‘The knees of all the boys who sit on the small 
benches are this way,” said Carl. 

‘‘Well, you should study more and not be looking off 
your book.” 

“Does one have to look on the book to study? I 
studied how I could paint a sunflower yesterday 
when I truanted, and I didn’t have any book. 
When you came around this afternoon the last time 
and struck me, I had just finished drawing a 
saw-buck, and a boy sawing, and was about to say I’d 
give it to you if you wanted it.” 

‘‘I shall teach you something besides making pictures, 
my lad; " and so saying, he dismissed Carl. 

Carl told his father all about the circumstance; the 
Doctor simply said: “I am sorry, Carl, you have had 
trouble with your teacher." 

A few evenings after, Mr. Smiley and Dr. McKenzie 
met in the road. 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


41 


“Good evening, Doctor," said Mr. Smiley. 

“Good evening, sir," said the Doctor. 

“I would like to speak a word to you about Carl." 

“Very well, sir; say on," said the Doctor. 

“Carl does not seem to care much for his lessons; I 
suppose you know he played truant. He seems listless, 
and wants to look out of the window. I scarcely know 
what to do for him." 

“I am very sorry, Mr. Smiley, that my son is causing 
you trouble. I intend that he shall be both obedient 
and attentive. I find it difficult to answer his questions 
and to satisfy his great desire to know. When I take 
him to the woods he is all * animation and enthusiasm; 
when he comes to my office with his reader or slate and 
pencil, I find him all attention—he was so delighted 
when I showed him how he could multiply with two 
numbers, first by units and then by tens, that the boy 
actually cried for joy. He often asks me about his 
pronouns—that is, whether he must say I and you, or 
you and I; whether he shall say Bess and me, or Bess 
and I. Last week he asked me how big this county is, 
and if it has a fence clear around it; and I took the 
opportunity to teach him a lesson in geography. I 
think, Mr. Smiley, if you study Carl, and find the best 
and brightest side to him, you will find him not stupid 
and listless, but all energy and animation. Take a walk 
with him and tell him about the flowers and the trees, 
talk with him, about his pets, show him that you are 
interested in the things which interest him , and then 
by the strength of this mutual sympathy you may lead 
him to an interest in the things which interest you, but 


42 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


at times seem very dull to him. I fear sometimes you 
teachers confine yourselves too closely to your text¬ 
books, and seldom stop to study the peculiarities of 
the little minds you are to mould and fashion, and tc 
make better, as well as wiser. The ox dies, but th eman 
lives forever. The ox may be driven , lashed if need be, 
not cruelly; man must be led. My boy, if he lives to 
ripened manhood, must stay here sixty years or more, 
and I want him to love this great world of ours. God 
is the Author of this world, and He made it exceedingly 
beautiful. I want Carl to see this beauty, and to look 
on through this loveliness and grandeur to the Author 
of it all. I would have him inspired with a love of 
Nature, of God, and of Liberty, so that with an ever- 
increasing intelligence and love, he may be able to do 
bravely his part in the mazy industries of the arts and 
sciences of human life. I desire my son to do right. 
The highest civilization this world will ever know lies 
veiled in that grandest of human precepts, the Golden 
Rule; I would have him live it. I would have him 
attain that perfected culture of heart and mind, which 
is to purify and bless and glorify the earth. As the 
years roll on, and the bells of time shall ring for Carl, 
I would not have them sound with clash and clang and 
loud alarm, but sweetly and joyfully, as falls a bless¬ 
ing from heaven. The blessed little innocent children 
here flitting to and fro are earth’s angels; let us bZ 
careful that no word or act of ours shall in any way 
plant in them the germ of the demon: "Pardon me, Mr. 
Smiley—I am keeping you standing too long. Call at 
my home and spend an evening with me." 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


43 


“Thank you; I shall be glad to do so”. And both said 
good evening. 

Mr. Smiley stood a little time after the Doctor had 
left him, trying to realize what he had done, or what 
he had not done, that was amiss. While he felt that he 
had not impressed the Doctor, as he desired, with a 
sense of Carl’s remissness, he was painfully aware that 
he had never experienced a more uncomfortable feeling 
of dissatisfaction with himself. 

That evening Carl came into his father’s office for 
some assistance in his number-work; and after receiving 
it, he threw himself down on a buffalo-robe on the floor. 
Soon after, Esquire Calver dropped in for a bottle of 
cough syrup; and so one after another came until the 
Doctor had half a dozen visitors. Carl was apparently 
asleep. Their conversation turned on school matters— 

“Say, Drummond, I understand the teacher licked 
your boy yisterday—and Doc’s too. They say the old 
fellow pops it to ’em like fun. Darn my skin! if ever 
I got but one lickin’ in my life, an’ I didn’t deserve that” 
said John Nagle. 

“This school matter is a kind of failure anyhow,” 
said Bill Buffington. I tell my young uns just so they 
learn how to read and write and cifer, that’s all I care 
about ’em a knowin’.” 

“Well, when my boy gets licked at school, I give him 
another’n when he gets home, said Billy Simpson. If 
a boy needs lickin’, lick him.” 

“Our taxes is too high, and we pay too much to a set 
of lazy stuck-up, big-headed, dispeptic, hypocritic, penu¬ 
rious gad-wielders—and if old Smiley ever licks one of 


44 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


my boys, I’ll turn that old hawk-bill nose of his’n t’other 
side up—by toady! I will as sure as my name’s Pete 
Bell,” (Bell never owned any property, and never paid 
a cent of tax.) 

“I never went to school but three months in my life, and 
I’ve got along purty well,” said Sam Gillespie (he owned a 
large farm); and there’s Daddy Whetstun, that lives in 
the big brick he’s—worth thousands and thousands—and 
I’ve hear’n him say he never went to school a day in 
his life. He sent his son, Sol to Yale—that’s som’ers 
in the East—and now Sol’s home, foolin’ the old man’s 
money all away on patent-rights. They do say this man 
Smiley licks the little fellers and lets the big uns go. 
My children never says anything to me about school 
nor me to them; and I wouldn’t know the master if I’d 
see him. I expect they’re larnin sumthin,—leastwise I 
pay lots of tax.” 

‘‘I give my boy Jim a pointer, last evenin’, on how 
to fix old Smiley Christmas if he don’t treat. My Jim’s 
a sharper! he gets his lessons and has half his time left 
for fun. One mornin’ last week he shot a big rat: I 
seed him wipe the blood off nice and clean and stick 
that rat in his pocket. Said I, ‘Jim, what cussidness are 
you up to now’ you sneaker?” Never mins, pap, said he; 
I’m just a carryin’ off the dead rat to keep it from the 
cat. If the cats can fin’ them a layin’ around dead they 
wont’hunt ’em, you know!’ Well, Jim asked to go out 
just before the girls’ recess, and he just put that rat 
on the door-step, and come in just before old Smiley 
said, Girls recess! Sal Jones was the first to open the 
door. She screamed and cleared the step—and half 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOQJL-MASTER 


45 


dozen more right after her. You may bet it was a lively 
time for a little while. And that noon a cornin’ home 
from school! old Smiley said to Jim, said he, ‘Jim, you 
are a good boy, and allers have your lessons,’ said he, 
you find out who put that rat on the step, and, says he, 
I’ll give you a dollar. 

Jim said it was mighty mean in anybody to do it, and 
he’d find the villian if he could, and tell on him—pro¬ 
vided old Smiley would promise not to keep him to see 
the lickin’. ” 

Dr. McKenzie had remained silent during all the 
conversation, but he could not refrain longer from speak¬ 
ing: “My friends, I have nothing to say either for or 
against Mr. Smiley. I have always found him pleasant 
and gentlemanly when I have met him. Only a few hours 
since I invited him to come to my home and spend an 
evening with us, I fear as parents we are all wrong. The 
teacher has many trials, cares, and duties that we know 
nothing of. They need our words of sympathy. They take 
the children from all kinds of homes—from the families 
of the vicious and the cultured—and try to produce or¬ 
der and symmetry out of the conglomeration. There are 
as many tastes and dispositions as there are pupils in any 
one school. It takes some time for even the shrewdest 
mind to acquaint itself with all these various disposi¬ 
tions. We ought to retain our teachers longer. We 
ought to have ten months of school, instead of six. We put 
our children six months in the school and six months 
on the street to learn its vices—how can we hope for 
good results. We ought to pay our teachers higher wages, 
and then see to it that they are men and women of the 


4 6 


KUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


highest culture and refinement—men and women who 
know how to develop in every child the power and incli¬ 
nation to make conscience in the boy or girl regal in life. 
Education is not so much memorizing, nor yet the 
growth of mental ability; it is the developing of the 
soul and mind. In this free land of ours we need strong, 
stalwart minds. There are perils ahead, in state, in 
church, in society, in commerce. We need developed 
minds, that they may be able to successfully cope with 
the mighty problems before us. We need training 
schools, in which our teachers may be taught the science 
of mind development. There is nothing so dear to me 
as the public school. I am a poor man, but in the pub¬ 
lic school I see a future for each of my boys and girls— 
a fortune of which the sharp schemer cannot deprive them; 
they may lose everything else in this life, but they can 
never lose themselves —themselves they must take with 
them through eternity. I want to see in our school-teach¬ 
ers those who are mind-builders, and character-build 
ers, who are lovers of nature, of God, and of 
humanity, and who have the power to impress the 
nobility, the purity, and loftiness of their own 
lives and high ideals upon the lives of the 
children. Let us visit our school, hold up the hands of 
the teacher, ask him to eat with us, talk to our children 
of school, assist them when we can in their lessons, and 
we will soon have charity for the teacher and a love 
for the school; and the result will of necessity be ad¬ 
vantageous to the schools, to the teachers, and helpful 
to the children; but we ourselves will find our own 
ideas broadened, our better natures strengthened, and 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


47 


our power for usefulness increased by this very effort." 

The Doctor noticed Mr. Calver looking earnestly 
toward the cprner of the office, and looking around, he 
saw Carl sitting up, with both hands clasped around 
his knees; and as the Doctor finished his last sentence, 
Carl said: 

"Father, may I be a teacher?” 

"Nothing would please me better, Carl,’’said the Doc¬ 
tor. "It is the noblest calling on earth. Jesus, who was 
humanity at its climax, was the great teacher.” 

"Doctor, I thank you for this firm expression of your 
views,” said Mr. Calver, extending his hand. "I am 
in full sympathy with you.” 

Pete Bell had a dazed look. The truths that the Doctor 
had uttered were beyond his comprehension, yet the 
earnestness with which they had been spoken, and his 
respect for the Doctor, caused them to make an impres¬ 
sion on him which he did not understand. Billy Simpson 
began to think that it might be that more was needed 
than abliity to read, to write, and to cipher, and that 
there were duties for him other than that of repeating 
at home his licking at school. They all bade the Doc¬ 
tor good evening, and passed out to their several homes. 
Every man in that little company thought long and seri¬ 
ously of the office talk. The power for good thus ren¬ 
dered can only be measured by eternity. 


CHAPTER IV, 


CARL AND DORA. 

“ They sat together, a little pair, in an old hull by the sea— 

She was a maiden with curly hair, and a bright brave boy was he, 

‘In the skipper,’ he cries, ‘and you’re my wife; and over the sea we go:' 

He cut the rope with his little knife, and away over the sea they go.” 

Mr. Smiley closed his school in March, and was offered 
and accepted a position as ticket agent at a station on 
the B. & O. R.R. 

The same month that school closed, Dr. McKenzie was 
elected a member of the school board. The next autumn 
the school board employed Milton Phillips, who re¬ 
mained as teacher in the village, year after year, until the 
breaking out of the rebellion. 

Mr. Phillips was a young man, peculiarly fitted for 
his work. Nature had done much for him: he possessed 
a fine physique, and stood six feet three in his stockings; 
he weighed two hundred pounds, and had a high, intellect¬ 
ual forehead. His large, mild blue eyes beamed from 
an open, cheerful countenance. He was a thorough schol¬ 
ar as well as student, and always met his patrons with a 
warm shake of the hand. He was frank, open, and free 
with his pupils. He was a first-class batter, and was 
often seen on the playground with the boys. 

Mr. Phillips was Carl’s ideal, and not only Carl’s, but 
nearly every pupil who came under his influence had 

48 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


49 


the same respect and love for him. Day after day, as 
the various sessions would open, and Mr. Phillips took 
his position at his desk, the countenance of every pupil 
beamed with delight. The evil-inclined pupil had no 
chance here—the enthusiasm of the whole school was 
against him; the dull pupil found just that kind sym¬ 
pathy he had been needing all his life, to wake him 
up from his dreaming. As his eye would meet that of 
his teacher, he would feel a glow of intellectual enthu¬ 
siasm reaching to the depths of his soul. 

Mr. Phillips changed the manner of reading from the 
drawling, lifeless monotone to clear, accurate, expressive 
reading. This was easily done when the pupil under¬ 
stood the meaning, comprehended the sentences, and 
entered into the emotions of the author. There was no 
holding up of hands, and saying: “Teacher, John mis¬ 
pronounced this word, ” or he hesitated, or he let his voice 
fall, or he didn’t stop at a comma, or, last of all, he 
repeated. One was called upon to read as he under¬ 
stood the author’s meaning. If another one thought he 
meant differently, he was allowed to read and so express 
it. It was always a delight to hear his classes read. 

Mr. Phillips also introduced Stoddard’s intellectual 
arithmetic into his school, and Carl never forgot the 
fine mental drill he received in the study of this book. 

Carl’s parents noticed with great pleasure the inti¬ 
macy between their son and Mr. Phillips, and the Doctor 
frequently allowed Carl the horse and carriage that he 
might drive with Mr. Phillips into the country. During 
these drives every bush, and tree, and rock, and bird had 
its lesson. 

4 


50 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


Notwithstanding all these influences thrown around 
Carl McKenzie, he was still human, like other boys; he 
had also that keen boy-sense-of honor which always re- 
serlts insult, and which takes the part of the weaker 
party in contest. Late in the autumn of Mr. Phillips’ 
second year as teacher at Griflinsville, one Mike 
McCrane moved to town. He had a son named John, 
who was ten years old; physically he was the very ideal 
of health and strength. He showed his lack of manli¬ 
ness, however, by his habit of bullying the smaller boys. 

It was not long before he had an opportunity to test 
his strength. He cowardly slapped Lem Dixon, a little 
boy but seven years old. Lem’s brother immediately 
took it up, marked a line on the sidewalk, and asked 
McCrane to step over. McCrane began to pull his 
coat, and then, chuckling to himself, put it on again, 
saying, “I can lick you with it on,"and so he did. Step¬ 
ping over the line he made a feint with his right, and 
instantly followed it with a lefter on Dixon’s nose that 
sent him bleeding to the ground. Dixon could not be 
induced to come to the line again, and as the fight had 
been a fair one, none of the other boys cared to take it up. 

Carl had witnessed the whole proceedings and heard 
the reprimand the following morning from Mr. Phillips. 
When Mr. Phillips pointed out the evils and cruelty of 
fighting, Carl thought he never would fight under any 
circumstances; and still his little soul bubbled up in 
spite of him, and he felt that somebody ought to lick 
that boy. McCrane became more and more arrogant 
every day. He had had several fights with the boys, and 
they always resulted in a victory for McCrane. 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


51 


One evening Carl came upon Zip and Em standing 
close together and talking in an undertone. “Hallo, 
boys,” said Carl, “what is it?" 

"Shall we tell him?” said Zip. 

“Yes; Carl’s a good fellow, and maybe we will need 
him to help us out,” said Em. 

“Well, here it is,” said Zip. “You know yesterday 
morning when Mr. Phillips opened the lid of his desk he 
found it full of rotten eggs. You remember how sick the 
smell made him, and how the girls all gagged, and how 
little May Simpson threw up on the floor; and you 
know what a time we had, and how you volunteered to 
carry them all out, because it didn’t make you sick— 
you had been with the Doctor so much, and was used to 
smelling nasty medicines and other things. Well, we 
boys think we can prove that McCrane was the fellow 
what put them eggs in that desk.” 

“What’s your proof, boys?” said Carl. 

“Well, you see," continued Zip, “as Em was a bringing 
his old cow home night before last, from pasture, she 
turned up the alley past McCrane’s old barn, and, as 
Em came along, he smelled something, and as he kind 
o’ leaned his head against the barn, he heard John say¬ 
ing to hisself, ‘By Jehu, Pll git even with him, thanks 
to the old hen.’ And as I was coming home night be¬ 
fore last with a string of sunfish from Old Salty, I saw 
McCrane sneakin’ along the fence close to the school- 
house. Now, a puttin’ things together, I think this is 
'prima fisha’ evidence,as lawyers say—eh?” 

“Mr. Phillips shall know about it at once,” said Carl, 
“and Pll tell him. I don’t believe in telling on other 


52 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


boys, for little things; but that was against us all— 
against the whole school, and done by a cowardly 
sneak.” 

And so it was settled that Carl should be informant, 
and Zip and Em chief witnesses. Just after the boys 
separated (it was already dusk), Zip saw McCrane 
on a run; saw him cross and across the street, so as 
to be in advance of Carl. They at once took in the sit¬ 
uation. McCrane had heardyftieir conversation and had 
determined to waylay Carl. They at once climbed the 
fence, ran around back of Faust’s barn, and slipped 
along the alley fence, just as Carl and John came face 
to face. 

"And so I am a cowardly sneak, am I?” said John. 

"Yes, you are,” said Carl, "and I’m not afraid of you, 
either, if you are larger than I am. I suppose you heard 
all that Zip and Em and I said, and that shows again 
that you are a sneak; and you thought you’d lick me 
when we were all alone, and scare me out of it. You can 
lick me if you want to, but I’m going to tell Mr. Phil¬ 
lips, anyway." 

"If you say that agin, that you’re agoin’ to tell on me, 
I’ll stick your head into the mud, right here and now." 

"I said ‘I’ll tell him,’ and 1 willy" said Carl. 

The words were scarcely out, when McCrane made 
at him, but just then four strong hands grasped him, 
and both Em and Zip said: "Hold on, sir, hold on; we’ll 
have a hand in this business. Now, McCrane, since you 
want to fight Carl, you shall have the opportunity; but it 
must be in daylight, in the presence of the other boys. If 
you are not a coward and a sneak, you meet Carl to-mor- ' 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


53 


row (Saturday), at ten o'clock, at the brook back of the 
school-house; vve’ll need plenty of water to wash the 
blood off of Carl, and so we will meet there. We are 
larger than either of you, and we will see that you have 
fair play; and if you lick Carl, he shall not tell on you, 
but if he licks you, you’ll have to own up the whole 
thing before the school next Monday morning: what do 
you say?” 

"All right,” said McCrane; "I’ll pound him to a 
jelly." 

Zip and Em went home with Carl, and when they 
separated at the gate all the preliminaries had been 
arranged. It might be supposed that Carl did not sleep 
well, but he did, and when he arose in the morning he 
never felt better in his life. At ten o’clock, some twen¬ 
ty boys were under the shade of the trees on the bank 
of the little brook. Lem Dixon was among them. 

Zip explained the circumstance to the boys, and the 
agreement made the night before. The boys agreed to 
not cheer during the contest. They also agreed that 
there should be no biting, scratching, or pulling of hair, 
and no striking the opponent while he was down. 

It is but fair to mention that Carl could use either 
hand with equal dexterity, and was unusually strong in 
his arms. He could chin a pole more times than any boy 
he had ever met. 

Both boys came to the mark—Carl, with a confident, 
pleasant smile, and McCrane was the first to lead out. As 
was his custom, he made a feint with his right, and, 
like a flash, followed it with a lefter directed toward 
Carl’s nose. Carl received the blow on his right arm, 


54 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


and immediately planted a sounder, with his left, on Mc- 
Crane’sribs. Lem Dixon started to yell, but Em put his 
hand over his mouth and gave him a cuff which silenced 
him. The force of the blow staggered McCrane, and it 
was near a full minute before he came to the line again. 
McCrane was not accustomed to fight left-handed, and 
scarcely knew how to proceed, and so determined to let 
Carl lead out this time, which he did by making a feint 
with his left, and getting a fine one on McCrane’s nose 
with his right, which sent McCrane sprawling to the 
ground and bleeding profusely. McCrane showed his 
pluck by coming immediately to the line. He succeed¬ 
ed this time in getting an under-stroke on Carl’s ribs, 
and, glancing, hit on Carl’s right eye; but Carl gave 
him a second blow plump in his mouth, which again 
sent him sprawling to the ground. 

As McCrane came to the line the third time, it was 
evident that he was thoroughly mad and would make his 
most desperate effort. Carl saw the fire in his eye, and, 
for the first time, his countenance was sober. McCrane 
struck straight with his left—this Carl dodged; McCrane 
then caught him by the hair, and Carl jerked loose, leav¬ 
ing a handful of hair in McCrane’s hand. Carl said, “ You 
cowardly sneak," and at once went at his antagonist, caught 
him by his shirt-collar with his right, and with his left 
gave him half a dozen blows in quick succession. Mc¬ 
Crane could stand it no longer, and said, “Take him 
off.” 

There was no shouting among the boys. Lem Dixon 
rolled over a few times on the ground, but did not dare 
to shout. Carl assisted in washing the blood off John’s 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


55 


face, the boys shook hands, and all sat down on the 
bank. 

When Carl realized all he had done—when he thought 
of father, mother, and teacher—when he thought of kneel¬ 
ing at his mother’s knee that night, to offer his simple 
prayer, his feelings overcame him, and, placing his face 
in his hands, he wept bitterly. 

Em and Zip tried to comfort him, and John too said: 
“Why, Carl, it’s all right, and I’ll be the better for it; 
and when I ask the pardon of Mr. Phillips and the 
school, I’ll feel like a new boy.” 

Carl could not rest until he had seen both father and 
mother and made a clean statement of it all, and had 
received their forgiving kiss. 

And when his mother went with him to bed that night, 
she said, “Carl, I think I had better leave you to say 
your prayers alone to-night. I will close the door a 
moment and then return and tuck you in." 

What was said in that prayer, only Carl and the 
angels know. When his mother returned, he was just 
rising from his knees, and his eyes were bright with 
tears. She gently and snugly tucked the sheets about 
her boy and took his face in her hands; Carl put both 
arms around his mother’s neck, and, as he drew her face 
to his, he felt her warm tears on his cheek. Gently she 
raised herself, loosened his arms, kissed him tenderly, 
and said, “Good-night, Carl, and God bless my boy.” 

“Good-night, mother—Carl loves you;" and she left 
him alone. 

John McCrane was true to his pledge. He was for¬ 
given both by the teacher and the school, the latter by a 


56 BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 

rising vote; and just as all were reseated, Mr. Phillips 
broke out in his clear, sweet voice with: 

“ Let us gather up the sunbeams, lying all around our path; 

Let us keep the wheat and the roses, casting out the thorns and chaff; 

Let us find our sweetest comforts in the blessings of to-day, 

With a patient hand removing all the briers from the way.” 

All, who could, attempted to sing, and every eye was 
moist with tears. 

The summer and autumn of i860 had passed into 
American history, showing a record of the most stir¬ 
ring political events ever witnessed on this continent. 

Four tickets were in the field, headed by Breckenridge, 
who represented the Southern Democracy, Douglas, who 
represented the Northern Democracy, Bell, who rep¬ 
resented the old Whig party, and Lincoln, who repre¬ 
sented the Republican party of the North. There were 
tremendous gatherings; the most eloquent speakers of 
the nation addressed the enthusiastic multitudes; pole- 
raisings and barbecues were of weekly occurrence; Ran¬ 
gers and Wide-awakes marched and counter-marched like 
drilled battalions; torch-light processions illumed the 
streets of the towns and cities. • 

The Douglas Rangers had had an immense mass-meet¬ 
ing at the neighboring village of R, and the Wide¬ 
awakes had decided to outdo them, in a grand demon¬ 
stration at the same place. Wonderful and extensive 
preparations had been made; all the neighboring towns 
were to send delegations; massive wagons were built, some 
having the weight of log cabins, others, as many young 
ladies dressed in white as there were stars on the flag, 
and on still others were men splitting rails out of a 
massiv.e log borne upon the wagon. 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


57 


On this occasion Carl had been chosen as one of 
thirty-three boys, who were to represent thirty-three 
States in the Union. They were to form part of the 
procession, each boy being on horseback. The boys 
were all dressed in blue pants, red flannel shirts, and 
white caps. Carl was unanimously chosen captain, and 
wore a red scarf as the sign of his office. 

Promptly at nine o’clock, with flags and streamers 
flying, bands playing, horses prancing, and girls sing¬ 
ing, the whole procession started for R, a distance of 
six miles. As they marched along, they were joined 
by other processions, until they presented a most im¬ 
posing appearance. 

Carl rode his father’s dappled gray, and the horse 
seemed as proud of his rider as the rider did of the 
horse. Zack, for that was his name, would do nothing 
but prance, and Carl was perfectly delighted, as the 
horse, with dainty steps and arched neck, kept his place 
beside the column. 

At half-past ten they entered the beautiful grove of 
sugar maple and walnut, on the banks of Salt Creek, 
just above the mill-dam. The town of R had selected 
thirty-three little girls who were dressed in skirts of 
blue, white waists, and red caps. It was only natural 
that the thirty-three boys and the thirty-three girls should 
gather together on the grounds. There was one girl, 
eight years old, who wore a red-white-and-blue scarf. 
Carl at once recognized her as the leader of the thirty- 
three girls. It was very natural that they should walk 
a little way by themselves, that they should occupy two 
camp-chairs under the shade of a walnut tree, and when 


5» 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


they were seated it was natural that Dora Dundore 
should say: "My! isn’t there just heaps of folks here? 
those horrid old cannons just deafen my ears! Do you 
like to hear cannon, master? There, you haven’t told 
me your name, and here I’ve been with you five min¬ 
utes. ” 

"You may call me Carl, if you like.” 

"But suppose I don’t like—but I do; Carl—I never 
heard that name before. It’s a real pretty name, isn’t it?” 

"And what shall I call you?” said Carl. 

"Me? Oh, call me Dora. How many of you folks 
came here to-day?” said Dora. 

"About five hundred,” said Carl. 

"All from Griffinsville? I was there once to an Indian 
show, and I didn’t think there were that many folks in 
the whole town; did they all come?” 

"Oh, we gathered them up along the road," said Carl. 

"You mean you want some of my roses, and you shall 
have them, if you will promise one thing.” 

“And what’s that?" said Carl. 

"Will you promise?" 

"Not till I know what I am to do,” said Carl. 

"Well, you see that river there—Old Salty, we call 
it?” said Dora. 

"Yes, I see Old Salty.” 

"Well now, just down there under those bushes is our 
boat, the red one; now you must promise to take me a 
boat-ride after dinner, if I give you half my roses.” 

"Do you think I can manage it?" said Carl. 

"Course you can; lots of little boys here, not near so 
big as you, row all over the river, and you would look 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


59 


so nice, rowing with that scarf and uniform; the folks 
would all look at us; now will you promise?" 

"I'm afraid I can’t manage the boat," said Carl. 

"You area little coward" said Dora; "I don’t like you 
half so well as I did; I’m going away now.” 

“Not till I have my roses," said Carl. 

"You sha’n’t have one ’less you promise,” said Dora. 

"I’ll promise,” said Carl; "that is, I’ll promise to try" 

"All right then, here is your roses; come around after 
dinner and we’ll sail." 

Carl wandered around with the boys, looked at the 
cannon, the big wagons, saw them raise the-pole and run 
up the flag, and joined in the cheering. He staid a 
little while at the stand to hear the speaker, and then 
wandered off to where the band-boys were, and wished 
in his heart that he was the drummer-boy. But all the 
time there was the picture in his mind of a brown-eyed, 
brown-haired, rosy-cheeked girl. And when the other 
boys talked to him, they noticed that he frequently 
asked, "What did you say?" 

The dinner hour seemed a long way off. Carl thought, 
can there be a Joshua here commanding the sun to 
stand still so the speaker can get through? 

At last he was beside the boat, and Dora came a 
moment later. As yet there were no boats out in the 
river, for most of the people were still at dinner. 

Dora had gotten the key of her father; she unlocked 
the boat, stepped in, and told Carl to pull the chain in 
after him. As Carl stepped in and the boat moved out 
from the shore, he almost toppled over. He soon re¬ 
gained his equilibrium and seated himself cautiously, ex- 


6o 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


amined the oars, placed them in their sockets, and pulled 
for the opposite bank. He succeeded in reaching it, 
but noticed that he had drifted considerably down the 
stream. They pulled a few wild honeysuckles, watched 
the people on the opposite shore, ate candy-kisses taken 
from Carl’s pocket, and read the verses they contained. 
All the time they were slowly drifting down the stream. 
Presently Dora said, "O Carl! See how near we are to 
the dam! Do take me back!” Carl for the first time 
realized his danger. Taking hold of the oars, he 
worked manfully, but he soon saw they must go over. 

At this moment their danger was observed by the 
people on the shore and a great shout of alarm went up. 
Everybody ran frantically to the river’s brink. 

"Lie down flat in the boat, Dora," said Carl ; "I am a 
good swimmer, and I’ll get you out all right." He suc¬ 
ceeded in turning the boat’s prow at right angles with 
the dam, just at the moment it went over. It shot like 
an arrow down the decline, rose and sank, rose and sank 
again, then whirled round and round, and then with a 
mighty plunge, it went end first entirely out of sight. 
Scream after scream went up from the shore. Men 
turned pale and women fainted. 

Two boys with blue pants and red blouses were seen 
half way to where the boat went down. A moment later 
and the boat appeared in sight, fully twenty yards below 
where it went down. A single arm was seen to clasp 
the side of the boat just where the oars were fastened. 
Ijt was the right arm of Carl McKenzie; with the other 
arm he was clinging firmly to Dora Dundore. A moment 
later, Em and Zip had reached the. boat, and, in a few 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


61 


moments more, all were landed safely. Dora had done 
just as Carl had told her to do, and just as they went 
over the dam he had placed his left arm around her, and 
had taken a firm hold of the iron fastenings of the 
boat. 

Dora was soon resuscitated, and a change of clothing 
was found for the boys. As Carl rode home that even¬ 
ing, his noble horse seemed to realize that his arm lacked 
the strength of the morning, and, but for the bowing of 
his neck, he might have been taken for a farm-horse. 

It is not strange that Carl and Dora both dreamed of 
fairy-land and falling cataracts that night. 


CHAPTER V. 


THE SPELLING-SCHOOL. 

Carl did not see Dora Dundore again for a little more 
than three years, and then by mere accident. 

Among the joyful gatherings of olden times, the 
"spellin’-school” was chief; ‘wood-choppin’," "corn- 
huskin’,” "log-rollin’,” and "apple-peealin’" bees were 
the more substantial. The big stir-off at the sugar 
camp was sweeter, but nothing equaled the "spellin’- 
school,” in social eclat and intellectual grandeur. 

To "spell good," was the chief concern of an "educa¬ 
tion." 

These were the days of the Rs, when school-masters 
taught Readin’, ’ Ritin’, ’Rithmetic, and the Rod. 

In those days the principal branch was birch, and all 
scholars were supposed to take it. 

At noon and night the "little class,” the "middle 
class,” and the "big class,” all spelt for head, and prizes 
and honors were lavished upon those who could stand 
at the head most of the time. 

Fridays were always expected to close with a match, 
or a general "spell-down.” The students were arranged 
in a circle around the room, and when one missed he 
was seated, and so on, until none were left standing. 
The teacher stood in the midst of the group and pro- 

62 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


63 


nounced the words and was supposed to be like the 
living creatures in the book of Revelations, having eyes 
both before and behind; for those having fallen in the 
first round would soon tire of “hearin’ the master give 
out to the rest,” and would devise various schemes of 
entertainment. 

Sometimes, having chosen up and arranged on two sides 
of the house, they would “draw over” those that missed, 
until one side 01 the other would be entirely destroyed. 
This was lively, as it gave all a chance to continue to 
the end, and permitted the big boys and big girls to be 
together, as those who missed had to cross over and be 
seated by the side of the successful speller. 

A kaleidoscope could hardly furnish a larger number 
of changes than would be possible at one of these grand 
entertainments. 

Some students in every school could boast that they 
had spelt, 11 Webster’s Elementary clean through, with¬ 
out missin’ a word.” But having performed such a feat 
one winter, would not make it certain that it could be 
done a year from that time . 

All the accomplishments in the spelling art were the 
results of memory. They got it “by heart,” but it did 
not stay “by heart. ” 

They knew nothing of analogy, orthoepy, or orthogra¬ 
phy, though they could spell every word from “baker" 
to “incomprehensibility.” 

They scarcely knew the meaning of one word out of 
twenty, and it is not much better in some of our district 
schools yet. 

They thoroughly mastered such catch words as daguer- 


64 BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 

reotype, phthisic, ptisan, hautboy, vignette, and belles- 
lettres; they knew how to compare, impair, prepare, 
and repair, but they knew nothing of any rules for those 
pairs, or how to pare a pear, for no two seemed to pair 
off; they only knew that one set "spelt 1 ’ one way, and 
the other was “spelt t’other” way. 

When they got over to "grammar,” they learned that 
the customary fare, was different from the beautiful fair, 
but why they should both fare alike, neither student nor 
teacher ever knew. The whole of the art was in packing 
the words into the mind and retaining them, remem¬ 
bering each word by itself and for itself. 

Spelling was not for use, but a training for the prize¬ 
ring. 

I fear the absurdity of the past has given way to the 
other extreme of neglected orthography. The world nowa¬ 
days tolerates and fondles a superficial refinement that 
cuts pie with a fork, though it spells God with a small 
g, or County with a K. 

The contest which I am about to describe in this chap¬ 
ter occurred at what was known as "Whisky Run school- 
house.” It was the first district down the river, from 
the town of R. Carl was visiting, at the time, a 
friend over at Yorkville. The boys thought it would be 
a rare treat to visit the school, and they decided to start 
early, and go over the hill past "Salt Peter Caves." 

When they arrived, they found a great crowd, and also 
learned that the "spellin’” was a match contest between 
the town of R, on one side represented by six spellers, 
and one speller each from the following: viz.—Pigeon 
Creek, Higby’s Ford, Brimstone Holler, Tweeds’ Point, 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


65 


Mud Run, and Whisky Run. Carl's friend, much 
against Carl’s judgment, plead for Griffinsville to be 
represented by one member, and the judges and spellers 
finally consented, and Carl was introduced. Before time 
to begin, the house was full, and the yard was full. In 
those good old times everything was neglected for these 
contests. The honor not only of the family was at 
stake, but of the whole neighborhood as well. 

And on this particular occasion, if gambling had been 
indulged in anything larger than penknives or cheap, 
open-faced watches, it would be hard to guess the num¬ 
ber that would have been left bankrupt. 

In order to perfect fairness it was agreed that the 
teacher from Vigo, James Burke, should pronounce for 
the evening, or if he should need rest in the meantime, 
Tom Sigler, from Yankytown, should take his place. 

As was customary the “spellin’” began at early candle- 
lightin’.” The contestants were arranged in this man¬ 
ner: the six district schools on the north side, the town 
of R, on the south side, and Carl in the center between 
them. 

Dora Dundore had not recognised Carl until the light 
fell full in his face as he took his place. When she 
recognized him, somehow she felt a dizziness come over 
her, and she felt that she would most certainly miss the 
first word. 

After the fiftieth round there was still on the floor, Jim 
Stunkard, Jake Frump, Isabella Lamasters, Susan Cra- 
ble, Carl, and Dora. 

The pronunciation had been a little peculiar and many 
were the complaints on the part of the friends there who 
5 


66 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


had been disgraced by the first rounds, and they were 
of the opinion that the town teacher was no good in 
giving out to the folks in the “Kentry. ” But there was 
no opportunity for loud swearing. They were down and 
it could not be helped, and the districts still represented 
depended upon their representatives to maintain the 
honor of the country districts. 

Now the words went faster. Full a hundred rounds 
and still the six were on the floor. The room was warm 
and the interest was up to white heat. Mr. Burke be¬ 
came hoarse and Mr. Sigler had to relieve him. The 
people called for “hard spellin’ " in order that the con¬ 
test might end before midnight. Finally Isabella went 
down on “flagitious” using a “c” in place of a “t” though 
she affirmed she was right according to her book. Mr. 
Sigler now pronounced the word air, the atmosphere, 
which was correctly spelled and then came “are” the 
plural of “is," which was missed by Jake, as he had 
always heard it pronounced as the preceding word. 
There was general dissatisfaction at this calamity, for 
Jake was known as one of the best spellers in the coun¬ 
try, and to be sent to his seat on so little a word, of 
only three letters, was regarded as a disgrace to Brim¬ 
stone Holler. The remaining four held their places 
for twenty more rounds. It was decided to resort to 
geography; and so they began with Equator, Quito, 
&c., to Buenos Ayres, which sent all to their seats, 
save Carl and Dora. 

They were the youngest of the contestants, and it 
might have been heard whispered around, “them’s 
trumps." The excitement rose high, for though the dis- 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


67 


tricts had been defeated by the town of R, all the coun¬ 
try people immediately became Carl’s friends. No 
jockey-race ever produced such intense excitement; the 
people involuntarily rose in their seats, and once, when 
Carl seemed to hesitate for a moment, they leaned for¬ 
ward with eyes and mouth wide open and Reid their 
breath. The long, green and black, navy tobacco lay 
unpressed in the cheek. Carl up to this time had not 
recognized his opponent. The word Niagara was pro¬ 
nounced to her, and, as she seemed to hesitate, he 
looked her full in the face, and actually sank into the 
seat behind him. At this instant there was an occur¬ 
rence at the door which gave them both time to recover 
themselves. 

The Walkers and Smiths had been at misunderstand¬ 
ings for a long time, and they had been thrown together 
that night by accident and were having a kind of "your 1 e 
another" conversation out of doors. Finally, Rill Walker 
struck Harvey Smith, who thought he might be shot, as 
he bumped up against the door and the fire flew out of 
his eyes; and concluding he would be dead in a few 
moments, he gathered himself into a heap on the door¬ 
step and began to pray for the Lord to have mercy on 
him. His voice was recognized by his sisters who were 
on the inside and who ran to the door screaming that 
their brother was killed. The stampede was general; 
the rush for the door was such that everything was in 
a general confusion and no one could either get in or 
out. Windows were thrown up and many of the young 
men were hustled out to protect the innocent, and pun¬ 
ish the guilty. But Walker had fled and could nowhere 


68 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


be found. Smith had a fairly good-sized “Fourth of 
July” over his right eye. 

The fight now being over, nothing remained but to return 
and see the spelling through. Some of the young “bloods” 
were so disappointed that it seemed that they must have 
a row; however, things quieted down, at least on the sur¬ 
face, and the spelling began. During the commotion 
outside, Carl and Dora had fully recognized each other 
and renewed their acquaintance. 

Dora said: “I am to spell Niagara, and had you 
thought that only one of us must go over the falls to¬ 
night and down below the chilly waters, and that to 
rise no more, surely Carl you will not be so cruel as to 
send Dora all alone down the awful precipice to the 
foaming, seething vortex below! " 

“I cannot relinquish the oars, now, Dora, we are too 
near the brink. If you will junip overboard , how am I to 
save you? But here they come and we must collect our¬ 
selves for the contest." “The last word,” said Mr. Sig¬ 
ler, “was Niagara; will Miss Dora spell?” The word was 
spelled correctly. Finally geographical names were laid 
aside, and Webster’s Academic Dictionary was taken up. 
Such words as the following were selected: till, until, 
tyranny, annual, Koran, unbiased, basin, beaux, bayed, 
bade. At last the word corolla was missed by Dora and 
immediately snatched up by Carl. The judges awarded 
him the prize, but he immediately presented it to Dora, 
saying, “you have fairly won it. I was a mere accident 
in the contest. ” After congratulations Carl walked with 
Dora to the carriage, and, while her father untied the 
horses, Carl assisted her to her seat and, as her hand 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


69 


lingered in his, he raised it to his lips and was gone. 

As Carl and his friend wended their-way over the hill 
that night, Carl seemed to be dreaming; usually so talk¬ 
ative, he was now so silent. 

“Are you ill, Carl?” said his friend. 

“Oh, it’s only my throat. I shall be all right to¬ 
morrow. ” 

Will the realm of infinite futurity ever be able to add 
a sweeter sensation than the purity and dreaming felic¬ 
ity of early love? It is not earth-like. It is born from 
above. 


CHAPTER VI. 


CARL AT HIGH-SCHOOL. 

“ Build to-day, then, strong and sure, 

With a firm and ample base, 

And ascending and secure 

Shall to-morrow find its place. 

Thus alone can we attain 

To those turrets, where the eye 
Sees the unreal as one vast Plain 
And one boundless reach ot sky.” 

—Longfellow. 

The spring of ’61 found in Griffinsville, as in every 
voting precinct of the Northern States, a recruiting 
officer. Carl felt that he was losing all his best friends 
with the first call for three years’ men; both Carl’s 
orothers and Mr. Phillips entered the field; Em and Zip 
both went as drummer boys—Em as tenor, Zip as bass. 

Carl went with them to the depot, and was the last to 
take their hands as they stepped aboard the cars for 
Camp Chase. The scenes of excitement throughout the 
land at this time have been told by more eloquent pens 
than mine, and I will not attempt to recall them in 
this narrative; suffice it to say, that Carl entered into 
it all with a burning enthusiasm. Every day he read 
with increased interest the thrilling accounts in the 
Daily Gazette. 

He wrote letters full of home news and excited 
questionings to the boys, and received replies, describ- 

70 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


71 


ing camp and field, march and battles. From the many 
letters still in Carl’s possession, I select one for my 
reader: 

“Murfreesboro, January 1, 1862. 

“Dear Carl: Last night I had charge of our advance 
picket line, and the Johnnies were right in front of us. 
As I was placing my men, the Sergeant of the rebel guard 
said 'Hello, Yank.’ 

“I said, ‘Hello yourself, Johnnie.’ 

“He was advancing toward me, and I met him half¬ 
way. We shook hands and talked a few minutes, and, 
as we separated, we agreed to meet again after we had 
completed our rounds. It was a beautful moonlight 
night. I took the precaution to place Bill Hudson 
behind a clump of bushes, near to where we were to 
meet, with instructions to keep a sharp lookout. 

“Johnnie and I met according to agreement, and had 
been talking about the war for some ten minutes, when 
suddenly we were both startled by the report of Bill 
Hudson’s rifle. At the same moment Johnnie threw up 
his hands saying, ‘My God! he has shot my brother!’ 

“He asked me to go with him, and I did so; and sure 
enough, a few rods down the hill, we found the lifeless 
corpse of his brother, with a bullet hole in his forehead. 
With water from my canteen I washed away the blood, 
and, seeing that I could do nothing more, left the 
brothers alone. 

“When I returned to Bill, he said, that just after we 
began to talk, he noticed the Johnnie slipping up, ’and., 
just as he was drawing bead on me, Bill fired, with the 
result given.’ 

“Your brother, Dick.” 


72 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


Carl regretted keenly that he was not old enough to 
participate in these scenes of danger and excitement. 
’Twas not only patriotism and love for his country and 
flag that thrilled every fiber of his loyal soul, but he had 
all a boy’s love of change and adventure; and of all 
things he desired most to go to the front. For four 
years he accomplished but ilittle in the school. His 
interest and attention were drawn from school and school- 
life by this excitement of his surroundings. The teach¬ 
ers who followed Mr. Phillips were not so good as he 
had been, although Carl attended as a regular pupil 
whenever school was in session, and of course made 
some progress in all his studies; his chief advancement 
was made in United States history and the geography 
of the Southern States. Carl built many a fort and in 
his imagination fought many a battle during this time. 

In after life, Carl always had an enthusiastic history 
class, and the place where every great event occurred 
was always pointed out again and again, until thorough¬ 
ly implanted in the memory. He also drew, and had 
his class draw rough sketches of the forts and battle¬ 
grounds. 

I might mention here that the platforms of political 
parties were always discussed by the class. No great 
political event was allowed to pass without a thorough 
investigation, and every pupil was not only allowed, but 
was encouraged, to express fully his or her views on 
the great questions of American history. 

At last the great war was over, and the tented field 
and the shock of battle became events of history. The 
26th Regiment O. V. V. I. were mustered out at Camp 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


73 


Chase. Two days more and Dick and Will took their 
seats at the McKenzie table. Carl’s old teacher re¬ 
turned to his home in Pennsylvania, where he was after¬ 
ward given the chair of mathematics in an Eastern 
college. 

Poor Zip was taken prisoner and was never heard of 
afterward. Em came safely back to his home, and is 
now in business in Columbus, Ohio. 

Carl’s parents decided to send him away to school. He 
was not far enough advanced to enter a first-class college, 
and they wisely decided to send him to some good high- 
school, where the academic studies could be pursued. 
He was therefore sent to Moon’s Academy. 

This institution contained about one hundred students; 
was located in the Miami valley, in a quaker village 
which was surrounded by a class of wealthy farmers. 
Prof. Moon, who presided over the school, was one of 
the kindest of men. He was one of the few men before 
whom you could not stand without the impression that 
you were in the presence of one of nature’s noblemen. 
He had that dignified nobility of character, which always 
commands respect, as well as that tenderness of heart 
and gentleness of manner that invariably won the love of 
his pupils. 

As an instructor he was enthusiastic and practical. 

The various boarding-places of the boys were designa¬ 
ted as barracks. Carl was located in Barrack No. 6. 
There was not the college hazing here that is found in 
the College proper, yet the boys always liked an im¬ 
pressive introduction to a new student. Carl’s room¬ 
mate was a boy named Nolder. He was a quiet sort of 


74 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


fellow, but was a lad of good principles and fine native 
ability, and for many years the warmest friendship ex¬ 
isted between the boys. 

On the second evening after Carl’s arrival, one young 
man from each of the barracks was chosen as a select 
committee to introduce Carl and his room-mate to all 
the boys. Just after dark Carl heard a rap at his door, 
and upon opening it five young men entered. One of 
the boys, named Ousley, acted as spokesman and intro¬ 
duced the others; they were all introduced under the title 
of “Chief.” Himself, Chief Ousley, and then each chief 
in turn was presented to Carl and Nolder. Just as he 
had finished this ceremony, a sixth party entered with¬ 
out knocking. He was immediately introduced as Chief 
of Barrack No. 6. Carl began to take in the situation 
and was exceedingly amused. 

Chief of No. 6 said in a commanding tone, “all the 
gentlemen belonging to Barrack No. 6 are commanded, 
by the Most High Executive Council of this Barrack, to 
assemble in the double room of the third floor of this 
Barrack, at once. Thereupon, Freshmen McKenzie and 
Nolder, you will at once follow your Chief.” Carl said, 
“Come on, Nolder, let’s follow our leader.” All the boys 
of No. 6 were assembled in the upper room; they were 
chatting and laughing, and paid no attention to the par¬ 
ties entering until called to order by the Chief, who 
said, “Gentlemen of Barrack No. 6, I have the great 
pleasure of introducing to you Carl McKenzie, who will 
begin the entertainment this evening by singing us a 
song. Mr. McKenzie, will you please mount the box?” 
Carl knew there was only one thing to do and that was 
to sing, so he mounted the box and began: 


N 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 75 

"One night as the moon was a beaming, 

I lay fast asleep and a dreaming, 

That the sun was shining bright, 

In the middle of the night. 

And the boys had collected 
For to have a little fight.” 

He sang the entire song. Nolder was then required to 
mount the box and sing as Carl had been obliged to do. 
Then each was to declaim. Afterward it was politely 
suggested that they engage in a debate, choosing their 
own subject. 

After a moment’s consultation, Carl and Nolder chose 
this question: “Resolved, that the high-toned Chiefs 
Nos. 1 to 6, inclusive, are a set of asses.” Carl affirmed, 
Nolder negatived. Before Carl had finished, they knew 
something of his keen perceptive faculties, and his gift 
of sarcastic language; they declined to hear the nega¬ 
tive. 

Chief Ousley then advanced, and took from his inside 
pocket what seemed to be a tallow candle and asked 
Carl to take a bite. Carl did so, without hesitation. 
His quick eye had recognized, in the candle, a piece of 
“sweet gum.” Nolder followed suit, and then all the 
boys took a chew from the same candle. The mysteries 
of the order were explained, the two boys were welcomed 
as members, and all adjourned to their several rooms. 

In his studies Carl’s tastes inclined to the natural 
sciences, but he excelled only in mathematics, and he 
always attributed his success in this line to the excel¬ 
lent drill he had received in the Intellectual Arithmetic. 
He was not naturally possessed of superior reasoning 
powers, but his mind had been so strengthened and 
developed by his early and thorough training, that he 


76 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


easily took and held first rank in those studies which 
taxed the reason and judgment. 

Prof. Moon was a master in elocution, not that rant¬ 
ing, gesticulating , ridiculously absurd performance we so 
often see to-day; but he was clear in enunciation, 
forcible in expression, accurate in emphasis and pronun¬ 
ciation. And while imitative reading may not be the 
best, and is not , yet his pupils caught from him the 
spirit of good reading and always left his school with 
improved articulation, and better readers. 

Carl graduated fifth in his class of twenty-five, and 
after returning home took a trip with his friend Nolder 
to Niagara, to Albany, then down the Hudson to New 
York City, Washington, and then home. This little trip 
added much to his knowledge of our natural scenery, 
and gave him an idea of the world about him outside 
the little circle in which he had always moved. 

When Carl returned from his eastern trip he found 
nearly all the schools in the immediate vicinity of his 
home had been taken, and he felt the keenest disappoint¬ 
ment, for his whole nature had been aglow with the en¬ 
thusiasm of beginning his chosen ideal of life-work. 

He believed that he would inaugurate a new era in the 
world’s history of education, and gain for himself undy¬ 
ing fame, could he but have an opportunity to try his * 
skill in a country school. A friend of Carl’s, who had 
been visiting near Centerville, told him of a vacancy in 
a school in that neighborhood. Early next morning Carl 
set out on horseback, in search of the school. 

The average price paid teachers in Clinton Co., at that 
time, was forty-five dollars per month. As Carl rode 


BUCK$YE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


77 


along he decided he could afford to teach his first term 
for thirty-five dollars, and would, therefore, ask that 
price. 

When Carl was about ten miles from home he over¬ 
took on the road a farmer dressed in blue shirt, brown 
overalls, and white straw hat. He was sitting sideways 
on an old bay mare, and whistling, “Paddle your own 
Canoe. ” 

Carl rode up and said: “Good morning, sir.” 

“Howdy,” said the farmer. “You seem to be a stranger 
in these parts,” continued the farmer. 

“Yes, sir,” said Carl; “I am looking for a school; do 
you know of any vacancies near here?” 

“Well, now,” said the farmer, “I do that; our own school 
is vacant and we want a teacher.” 

“What wages do you pay?” said Carl. 

“Well, we paid forty-five dollars last year.” 

“I will take your school at thirty-five dollars, as I have 
never taught,” said Carl. 

“Your never having taught makes no difference to us; 
the gentleman we had last year had never taught, and he 
gave us a good school. Forty-five dollars is the price we 
pay, and, if you are our man, that is what we will pay you. ” 

By this time they were at the cross-roads. 

- “Now,” said the farmer, “my name is George Dronen; I 
live right there,” pointing to his house a few rods down 
the road, to the right. “I am the president of the 
board; the other two men are Samuel Thompson and 
Solomon Moorman. You see them and, if they are wi 11 ing 
to hire you, tell them I am too. I hope you can get back 
to my house by dinner time.” 


7 8 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


Carl left with an anxious heart; he saw the other 
directors, arranged a meeting at Mr. Dronen’s for half 
past one, and got back in time to eat dinner with the 
farmer. 

Mr. Moorman and Mr. Thompson were on hand prompt¬ 
ly at half-past one, and a contract was soon signed, and 
Carl arranged to board with Mr. Dronen. 

As specified in the contract the school was to open 
the second Monday in September. 

“Now,” said Mr. Moorman, “we are all through except 
the rules and regulations; we might just as well arrange 
those at this meeting.” 

“Do you think it necessary to have a set of written 
rules?" said Carl. 

“Yes, sir ,” said Mr. Moorman, “by all means. A ship 
without a rudder is likely to be lost, especially with an 
inexperienced pilot.” 

Carl thought best not to object further, so the rules 
were soon drawn up and signed by the board and Carl, 
much against Carl’s better judgment. But after all, 
the rules bore fruit, and produced what was afterward 
known in that community as the “Revival.” 

The sixth rule read as follows: 

“All pupils over sixteen years of age shall be ex¬ 
pelled from school for unruly conduct unless they 
voluntarily choose to accept such punishment as the 
teacher shall decree.” 


CHAPTER VII. 


THE REVIVAL. 

The revival was »not a religious revival, but one of 
quite a different kind, as will appear further on. 

The pupils who attended during the autumn term 
were all small children except a few of the larger girls. 

Nothing unusual happened during those months. As 
winter drew on, “and the frost was on the pumpkin, and 
the corn was in the shock,” the big boys began to enter 
the school, and the enrollment reached fifty-seven. 
There were three of the pupils over twenty-one, who 
could attend only by permission of the board; but this 
was granted, as those young men promised not to make 
any trouble, and were not to call on the teacher for assist¬ 
ance only when they got “stuck” in arithmetic. 

The school was so crowded that Carl often found it to 
his advantage to call on one or another of these three 
young men, to assist him in his work, and then he often 
remained after school-hours to assist them in their work. 
They appreciated his kindness in doing this and a friend 
ship arose between them. 

Their assistance in the revival far more than repaid 
Carl for his extra trouble. 

The names of these three boys, were George Fisher, 
Tom McFadden and James Hodson. Government in a 

79 


8 o 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


country school of sixty pupils, to one without experience, 
is no easy matter. One fellow named Tom Wright made 
his boast that he could lick the master and that he would 
do it if he ever undertook to thrash him. Carl de¬ 
termined to be master in fact as well as in name. He 
attempted to whip Tom, who resisted, but whose courage 
failed him, and Carl succeeded in giving him a severe 
and much-needed whipping. This occurrence established 
Carl’s authority. 

One of the rules, above mentioned, was to the effect that 
there should be no boisterous playing in the school-room, 
during noon or recess. This rule was adopted to protect 
windows and furniture, and the board insisted on its 
observance. 

Carl was invited to Mr. Wright’s for dinner one day, 
not because of any great affection the family had for 
Carl, but that he might compute the interest on a 
promissory note of five hundred dollars, on which there 
were many indorsements. Carl accomplished this task 
and came back in time to call school by one o’clock. 

As Carl neared the school-house he heard the "sound 
of revelry,” and closer examination showed a broken 
window-pane, a shattered desk, and snow-besprinkled 
floor. 

Carl called the roll as usual, and then said; "I am sur¬ 
prised to find so many of my large pupils disregarding 
one of the rules, by playing in the school-house.” 

George Fisher held up his hand and then arose and 
said, "I for one am to blame for this, and I ask your 
pardon.” Several other large boys and some of the 
girls arose and made similar confessions. 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 8l 

Carl said: “I am willing to forgive each of you, since 
you are so frank about the matter. All who are sorry 
will arise.” All arose but three boys near the door. 

“Did you violate the rules, Thomas Moore?” said 
Carl. 

I played in the house,” said Thomas, "but Pm not 
sorry; I don’t see any sense in such a rule, and I don’t 
want your pardon; if you don’t want me here, turn me 
out. ” 

"I say the same,” said Bill Moore. 

“So do I,” chimed in Tom Wright. 

“This rule is not of my making,” said Carl ; "you may 
think the matter over for one hour, and then ask pardon 
or stand suspended.” At the end of the hour they all 
arose, took their books, and passed out. That evening 
after school, Fisher remained for some assistance in 
arithmetic. 

Carl said: "What do you think about my expelling the 
boys? ” 

"It is just what they wanted. Tom Wright has not 
felt so happy since you gave him such a decent whip¬ 
ping.” 

"What will come of this, George?” said Carl. 

"That’s hard to tell; nothing ought to come of it, 
but the fools are not all dead yet,” said George. 

Next day more than a dozen of the pupils were absent, 
and the falling off continued from day to day until fully 
one-half the seats were vacant. 

Carl had another talk with Fisher. "A storm is brew¬ 
ing,” said George, "and it promises to be a regular twister. 
My opinion is that there will be some fighting before 

<5 


82 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


this thing is over with. As I told you, the fools are 
not all dead yet.” 

"George, you are my friend, as I truly believe, and 
you are three years my senior; shall I resign?” 

"No, do not resign," said George, "that is just what 
they want you to do. Either rowdyism or civility is 
going to rule in this neighborhood, and I believe now is 
the time, and you are the man, to lead the better ele¬ 
ment to victory.” 

"I shall not resign, at least not until aftej: I am vindi¬ 
cated,” said Carl. 

That evening Carl requested Mr. Dronen to call a 
meeting of the board, and have the matter sifted to the 
bottom. 

Mr. Dronen informed him that a meeting of the entire 
voting population had been arranged for the next day, at 
one o'clock, at the school-house. 

Carl informed Mr. Dronen that he was amenable to 
the board alone. "Certainly,” said Mr. Dronen, "the 
board will act as court. We wish to give every one an 
opportunity to enter complaint. We shall hear the 
charges and your defense, and then decide according to 
law and testimony." 

"That suits me exactly,” said Carl; "I want to meet 
my enemies face to face.” 

Mr. Dronen continued; "The feeling against you, Mr. 
McKenzie, is bad. Old man Collins is excited because 
you scratched Brad’s face in trying to button his coat 
when you were about to whip him. He is rather hard 
to manage when he is angry and will give us trouble. 
Wright and Moore are mad and blame you wholly for 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 83 

their boys being expelled. Wright usually gives more 
thought to his hogs than to his children, but he is 
thoroughly aroused now. Moore is spoiling for a fight. 
He is a rough man and thinks fighting is the only way 
to settle a difficulty; he will be hard to manage.” 

“How do Mr. Moorman and Mr. Thompson stand in the 
matter?” said Carl. 

“They are both against you; Thompson is vacillating 
and goes with the current, which is just now against you. 
I am surprised that Mr. Moorman has gone over to the 
other side; he has always been your friend; and George 
Fisher, who boards with Moorman, is a warm friend of 
yours. I think Moorman has been deceived by false 
statements, and I am certain if we can get him to see 
the facts in the case he will be for you with all his 
might. ” 

Before sleeping that night, Carl had decided in his 
own mind two things; first, that Mr. Dronen was his only 
friend on the board, and second, that after making his 
vindications he would immediately resign and return 
home. Having so decided, Carl packed his valise and 
made out his report, ready to be handed in with his res¬ 
ignation. 

When school opened the next morning nearly all the 
pupils were in attendance, except the three boys who 
had been expelled. It was evident that many of them 
did not come to study. This, in their minds, was the 
last day. Some were insolent, and some seemed to be 
sad. 

During the noon-hour Carl took a stroll with his true 
friends, George Fisher, Tom McFadden, and James Hod- 


84 BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 

son. They passed around Bernard Point and were soon 
out of sight. 

"Now,” said Fisher, "we will tell you what we want. 
There promises to be a warm time this afternoon. As 
I said before, the ‘fools are not all dead/ Moore is 
furiously mad, and says the only way to settle this fuss 
is to fight it out. He says he will thrash you before 
night. Dan Hopper is another one of the fools. He 
swears he will cowhide you unless you get down on your 
knees and beg for mercy. Now, we three have pledged 
ourselves to stand by you; we take no pride in being 
classed as fighting men, but we are going to see fair 
play. Their talk simply amounts to nothipg, but, the 
moment they attempt more than that, we shall interfere. 
Go ahead, make your defense, and say what you want to 
say and have no fears. You do the talking and we’ll do 
the fighting if any has to be done.” 

Carl thanked them for their proffered assistance, but 
expressed the hope that it would not be needed 

When Carl and the boys returned to the school-house 
they found that quite a crowd had gathered. The board 
was holding a council at the back of the house. D ronen 
was calm and composed; Moorman was excited, and while 
he talked he gesticulated wildly with both arms. 
Thompson was nodding his little head and saying, as 
Moorman rattled on—"That’s so, exactly; that’s my 
mind. ” 

By the time to call school, most of the district was 
there. Old man Collins looked like he would burst with 
rage; Moore was walking around with his hands in his 
pocke-ts and was like the army in Flanders; Dan Hopper 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 85 

had his black-snake under his arm and tried to look 
fierce as a lion. 

When all were quiet, Carl said to the board: “Gentle¬ 
men, the school is now in your hands; proceed in any 
manner it suits you." 

Mr. Dronen then stated to the patrons of the school, 
that, as there had been much dissatisfation in regard to 
the management of the school, the board was now ready 
to hear any complaints that any one had to make, and 
that after complaints had been made, the teacher would 
be heard in defense of his cause, and that it would be 
their duty as directors to judge according to the law and 
testimony. 

Moorman blurted out, “That’s what we come fur; ” and 
Thompson nodded his little head. 

Old man Collins was on his feet in a moment. He was 
a fat man and wheezed when he talked. 

“I have a charge to make,” said Collins, “for the man¬ 
ner in which my boy was lick—licked. I don’t object to 
the lick—lickin’," wheezed Collins, “mind that; but he 
wanted Brad to button his coat, and Brad wouldn’t, and 
the teacher scratched his face; there’s the boy, and there’s 
the scratches—ahem. I know you will decide that the 
whole thing of makin’ the boy button his coat was wrong. ” 
Moorman nodded his head; and Thompson did the same. 

Carl arose, and stated that it had been customary, in 
schools where he had attended, to have pupils button 
their coats when punished. 

Collins jumped up and wheezed out: “I don’t keer 
what they do in other places; I want my boy licked as 
he is when he does the mischief. If his coat is buttoned, 


86 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


it’s to stay buttoned; if unbuttoned, it’s to stay unbut¬ 
toned. Take things as they are, what is your vardict?" 

Carl said, “Hold on, Mr. Collins." 

“I don’t see no use in holdin’ on,” Collins replied. “Do 
you deny the facts?" 

Carl still remained standing, and this so irritated Col¬ 
lins that he again wheezed out: ‘Do you deny the facts? 
Say yes or no, or own up that you are beat." 

Mr. Dronen said: “Be seated, Mr. Collins, and let the 
teacher make his statement; that is fair; he has not inter¬ 
rupted you and you must not interrupt him." 

Collins sat down. At heart he was a good man, and he 
knew that Mr. Dronen was right, and he had judgment 
enough to see that he had been too hasty. 

Carl called William Collins forward and asked if he 
was present when his brother Brad was whipped. He 
said he was. Carl asked him to state to the directors 
whether Brad’s coat was buttoned or unbuttoned, when 
he did the mischief. He answered: “His coat was but¬ 
toned; when he was called to be whipped, he unbuttoned 
it." 

Collins sprang to his feet once more, saying, “I’m 
wrong, men, I’m wrong; I have acted like a fool. I 
should have inquired into this matter before I made com¬ 
plaint. I withdraw the charge against the teacher." 

After a moment’s pause, Mr. Dronen said: “If there are 
any other complaints, let them be presented." There 
was a painful silence for a few moments; the termination 
of Collins’ affair had somewhat dampened the fires of 
resentment, but the burning was too great to be put out 
by that little shower. 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


87 


Mr. Wright broke the silence by saying: "Our boys 
have been turned outen the school fur doin’nothin. ’ If 
they’d been licked I’d a made no complaint, but this 
turnin’out business I object to. I think this school ought 
to be stopped right now, and this teacher run off; them’s 
my sentiments.” 

"Has any one else any complaint to offer?” said Mr. 
Dronen. 

Moore sprang to his feet and roared out: "Yes, sir, I 
have. I say that any teacher who has a rule about turnin’ 
out big boys is a cowardly puppy; let him lick ’em or 
get licked; nothin’ but lickin’ some one will ever settle 
this fuss. Let that smooth-faced coward give me 
any of his sass and I’ll lick him quicker than you can 
say rats. If he ain’t put out of this school before the 
sun sets, somebody’ll git a skinned nose.” 

Mr. Dronen asked if any one else had anything to 
say, and, when no one responded, he nodded to Carl, who 
came forward and said: "I shall pay no attention to the 
threats just made. There is a saying that those who 
are born in the woods are not to be scared by an 
owl. ” 

"I’ll slap the man’s mouth who calls me an owl,” roar¬ 
ed Moore; at the same time, springing to his feet and 
drawing off his coat, he took a step toward Carl ; but 
George Fisher arose before him and Moore stopped; the 
two men eyed each other for a minute and not a word 
was said. 

Moore was not a coward, but his courage did not run 
away with his discretion. He knew that he was no 
match for Fisher. Finally, Moore said: "George, what 


88 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


does this mean? are you here for a fight?" The response 
came with great firmness: 

No, Mr. Moore, I’m here to prevent a fight, not to 
engage in one; you and I have always been friends, but 
you can’t touch the teacher until -you pass over me. 
There are others here who feel as I do, and before you 
can whip the teacher you must whip us. We want no 
quarrel with you or any one else; we will have fair play 
and will defend our friend." 

Mr. Dronen said, "Men, be seated.” Fisher sat down 
and Moore followed his example. 

Mr. Dronen continued: "I am not only president of the 
school-board but Justice of the Peace; and if any man 
in this audience makes any more threats I will put him 
under arrest. The teacher has the floor.” Carl briefly 
reviewed all the circumstances connected with the 
affair, and showed not only the board, but all present, 
that in suspending the boys he had done only that which 
he was under contract to do—enforce the rules made by 
the board. 

The board immediately retired and in a few minutes 
returned, Mr. Dronen saying, "I am glad to inform 
you that we have no trouble in agreeing on this decision. 
We sustain the teacher in the course he has pursued. We 
could not do otherwise without condemning ourselves, 
for he has gone according to the rules we signed with 
him." Moorman nodded, followed by nods from Thomp- 
son. 

Carl said: "I thank you for my vindication; and now I 
believe it is best for all parties concerned that I tender 
my resignation; and here it is, together with my report.” 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


89 


This caused the impulsive nature of Moorman to take 
fire, and he sprang to his feet and dancing about the 
platform exclaimed: “For heaven’s sake, men, let’s 

don’t let the teacher go; what a set of fools we’ve been; 
if we wasn’t so ignorant, we’d a knowed better; let’s 
try and do better; let’s turn over a new leaf; I’ve done 
wrong, so have all of us; let’s forgive and forget; I believe 
all the scholars like the teacher and want him to stay; 
let’s have all come up and shake hands with the teach¬ 
er; ain’t that all right, Squire?” 

Mr. Collins said: “I second the motion, Squire; I done 
wrong and I want to forgive and forgit too. I want my 
children to shake hands with the teacher to show that 
they have nothing against him. Hadn’t we better all 
stand up, Squire?” 

Mr. Dronen nodded, and all arose. Moorman cried 
out: “Come on, children, come on!" Brad Collins was 
the first to reach Carl and grasp his hand; Brad was 
crying audibly. Crying as well as laughing is catching, 
and in a moment the whole school was crowding around 
Carl, anxious to grasp his hand. 

All came forward except the three boys who had been 
expelled. They stood back by the door and showed no 
disposition to go with the others. All eyes turned to 
them; there was silence for a few moments, save the sob¬ 
bing from the girls. This was too much for Moorman. 
Again he broke forth. “For heaven’s sake, boys, do come, 
it will do you good; come, do come." Thomas Moore, 
who stood nearest the aisle, looked at the other boys and 
then started, and the others followed. 

Moorman clapped his hands and shouted, “Glory to 


go 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


God!” Mr. Dronen said, ‘‘Good for you, boys.” Thomp¬ 
son said, “That’s right.” 

When the three boys reached Carl and felt his warm 
grasp they broke down completely. Mr. Dronen said: 
“My children shall not go ahead of me;” and, suiting 
the action to the word, he walked up and heartily shook 
Carl’s hand. Moorman followed the example. Mr. Col¬ 
lins, with his kindly face flushed with excitement, came 
up and said, with much difficulty for want of breath: “I 
hope never to be so hot-headed again; I’ve learnt a 
lesson I’ll never forgit.” 

One after another of the men came up and grasped 
Carl’s hand. There was no holding back from the “Re¬ 
vival,” as the boys afterward called this general hand¬ 
shaking. It seemed to have laid hold upon all present. 
When all had shaken hands with Carl and had again 
been seated, Mr. Dronen said: “That, as all were recon¬ 
ciled and the past buried, he hoped the teacher would re¬ 
main. ” 

He proposed that all who wanted Carl to remain and 
finish the school should rise to their feet. Every one 
arose. Carl consented to remain. He finished his first 
school without another jar, and also without producing 
any great revolutions in the system of education. 

He was tendered the same school the next year, at 
fifty dollars per month, but declined the offer for a posi¬ 
tion nearer home. 


CHAPTER VIII 


CARL—THE BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE. 

“ Thus, duties rising out of good possessed, 

And prudent caution needful to avert 
Impending evil, equally require, _ 

That the whole people should be taught and trained. 

“ Earth’s universal frame should feel the effect; 

Even till the smallest rock, 

Beaten by lonely billows, hear the songs 

Of humanized society; and bloom 

With civil arts, that send their fragrance forth, 

A graceful tribute to all-ruling Heaven. 

“ From culture unexclusively bestowed, 

Expect these mighty issues; from the pains 
And faithful care of unambitious schools, 

Instructing simple childhood’s ready ear. 

Hence look for these magnificent results.” 

—Wordsworth. 

There was nothing of especial interest in Carl’s life, 
for several years following the events narrated in the 
last chapter. He taught six months each year, in the 
district schools, and, as an evidence of his marked suc¬ 
cess, it may be truly said that in every instance he was 
offered the same school again and also at an increased 
salary. Carl always took the precaution to visit his 
school-house, and put it in order before the opening of 
the term. He saw that the floor and windows were 
clean and that the stove was blackened; that he had a 
new broom and a clean water-pail; that his blackboard 
was newly painted; that the apparatus, if there was any, 

91 


92 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


which belonged to the district, was always in the best of 
order; that the seats were arranged, and all the old 
papers and other rubbish were removed from the desks. 

He possessed two thermometers, one he placed in the 
northwest corner, and the other in the southeast corner. 
He picked up the rubbish from off the playground and 
burned it. His own desk was looked after and was always 
adorned on the first morning with a bouquet of flowers. 
These flowers formed the basis of an after-dinner talk, 
during which he always gained the hearts of a majority 
of his school, on the very first day. After talking of the 
flowers in general for a few minutes, he would select 
some special kind, and give to each member of the 
school one of this kind. Then, taking one himself, Carl 
would dissect it and show them the various parts, writ¬ 
ing the names of each on the board, etc. In this way 
he met his school, around one common center, and wove 
with them a web of fraternal feelings. In these informal 
talks he reached the hearts of every one, and they helped 
him to form his estimate of their dispositions, their 
likes and dislikes. Carl believed that there was a key to 
unlock the heart and affections of every boy and girl; 
that there was some key that would unlock and open, 
to vigorous activity and self-exertion, the most sluggish 
intellect. And each year's experience only deepened 
this conviction. 

The talks about plants and flowers were followed by 
other talks. Sometimes they talked of the animals with 
which the children were familiar; sometimes of the 
rocks, the sea, the sky, or the earth beneath their feet, 
always having a care to not carry the lesson beyond the 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


93 


point where the pupils were interested. And further on 
we will see him, Carl, as principal of the high-school, 
still farther stimulate the zeal of the boys and girls 
under his care, in the work. 

Carl, in all his experience, both in the district and 
graded schools, never allowed himself to be carried away 
by hobbies. He believed it to be the duty of the teach¬ 
er to teach reading, writing, arithmetic, etc., by the most 
approved and best established methods. He was a con¬ 
stant reader of his School Journal. And he read Page 
the first term he ever taught. He read and studied, care¬ 
fully, Wickersham, Johonnot, Phelps, and others. 

Carl always took a hand on the playground, and there 
was always an entire lack of profanity and vulgarism in 
his presence. One day during his second term of school, 
as he and some of the larger boys were engaged in a 
game of ball, one of the boys swore at the pitcher, and 
then, recalling himself, turned and walked up to Carl 
and said, “Mr. McKenzie, I beg your pardon, sir; I for¬ 
got your presence.” Carl replied, “I freely forgive you, 
James, but there is One greater than either of us, here; 
He, too, is offended.” This gentle reminder of the pres¬ 
ence of the Heavenly Father bore fruit in after years. 

Carl possessed a strong love for truth and a burning 
desire to know not only what the Heavenly Father had 
revealed in nature around him, but what the great world 
had thought and done; and this desire and enthusiasm 
he burned into the hearts and consciences of his pupils. 

Carl was always a favorite in the social circles. His 
acquaintance with nature, with books, and with men 
made his companionship most desirable. Although Carl 


94 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


was not a dreamer, yet there was a poetic somberness 
in his demeanor—there seemed something wanting to 
complete his happiness. The fact was, he carried in his 
mind the picture of a lovely girl whom he had seen but 
twice, once in the boat, once in the spelling-school—but 
they had been sufficient to command his admiration and 
win his affections. 

Carl’s parents had moved to Highland County in the 
fall of ’65. The time of which I write was the spring 
of ’73. 

He determined to visit his former home and see again 
the mill-dam where he came so near losing his life. He 
spent two whole weeks in and around Griffinsville, and 
lived over again his boyhood days. He found John Mc- 
Crane and Lem Dixon doing a flourishing business, 
manufacturing flour. 

The old school-house Was gone, and a large two-story 
brick occupied its place. 

He visited his former cabin home on Coe’s Run. The 
old cabin had departed. The one landmark he recog¬ 
nized was a lonely pine planted by his sister Jennie, 
just above the spring. His brother Will was now the 
owner of the farm, and lived in a more modern dwell¬ 
ing. 

The last place for Carl to visit was the town of R and 
the mill-dam. He arrived in the afternoon, and took 
rooms at the Eagle House. After arranging his toilet, he 
inquired if a Mr. Dundore still resided in the town. He 
was shown his residence. His heart beat fasTl How 
should he introduce himself? Should he send a note? 
Should he go to the residence, or to the father’s place 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


95 


of business? If to the residence and Dora should be 
the first to appear, would he be able to hide his confu¬ 
sion? Was she married or single, dead or alive, sick or 
well, at home or abroad, as beautiful as when a child, or 
had her face lost its childish sweetness? Why was he 
there anyway? He knew no one. As all these things came 
rushing into his mind, Carl never felt so foolish in all 
his life. 

Carl noticed that the landlord observed his confusion. 
He returned to his room to look at himself again in the 
mirror, to see if he still looked rational. Satisfied on 
this point, he sat down and tried to control himself, but 
somehow he became more and more embarrassed. He felt 
hot, he must have fever; he put his finger on his wrist— 
seventy times to the minute. He put his hand to his 
forehead—he was perspiring. He decided that he 
needed fresh air. Putting on his hat, he went out on 
the street, and in a direction opposite to Mr. Dundore’s 
residence. He had gone but a little way when he 
heard the sound of falling water. "Ah, that’s the 
mill-dam,” said Carl. He continued his walk and 
soon stood upon the pier of the old bridge just 
above the dam. Some boys were sitting on the bank 
fishing. The barn-swallows were flitting to and fro, 
from the eaves of the old mill. A robin was singing 
from the top of a sycamore just up the stream. Casting 
his eyes up the stream, he saw some boats moored under 
the willows. He felt impelled to try the oars and so 
turned his steps in that direction; but when he arrived 
he found them all locked. He stood there in disgust. 
He said to himself, “I might have known as much;” and 


9 6 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


then aloud he said, '‘If Dora were here, she could un¬ 
lock it.” 

‘‘And so she will," said a voice behind him. 

Turning around, he saw before him a lovely woman 
with a smiling face, and she had a book in one hand and 
a key in the other. Carl took off his hat, bowed, and went 
forward with outstretched hand—Dora pressed it warm¬ 
ly, unlocked the boat, and asked him if he could row? 

Dora begged leave to handle the oars herself, at least 
until they were out of danger of the dam, and Carl did 
not object. "Now you wonder,” said Dora, after rowing 
a little way up the stream, "how I came to be here 
this afternoon? Well I’ll tell you. A friend of mine 
who lives at Griffinsville, wrote me of your arrival, and 
of your business trip (as you expressed it) to R, before 
returning. I knew that the first place you would come 
would be right here to this old dam. Yesterday I received 
another letter, stating that you would be here this after¬ 
noon; so you see I came down to surprise you. When I 
saw you on the bridge pier, I was sitting under the old 
walnut, where we sat so many years ago when I tempted 
you to commit both murder and suicide, and you would 
not. ” 

It was almost dusk when Carl assisted Dora from the 
boat and accompanied her home; they seemed to each 
other like old-time friends. Each had a long experi¬ 
ence to relate, that the other was anxious to hear. Carl 
remained several days, and in the evening of each day, 
the little boat made its rounds to Tweed’s Point and re¬ 
turned. As they reached the landing place on the last 
evening of his stay, Carl let the oars rest and, looking 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MAS.TER 


97 . 


full at Dora, said: "Dora, you remember Carl McKenzie, 
when a boy, asked you to divide your roses with him— 
Carl McKenzie, as a man, asks you to divide your life 
with him.” 

"And Carl McKenzie must remember,” said Dora, 
"how nearly fatal to both was that division; Dora, as a 
child, tempted Carl, the boy; but, as a woman, Dora 
would not tempt the man.” 

"I do not understand you,” said Carl. "Every word and 
act of yours since I came here has tempted my request.” 

"Dear Carl, you are hasty,” said Dora. "First, I have 
not refused you.” 

"Then you’ll be mine?” broke in Carl. 

"Wait, Carl," said Dora, "wait till I explain, since 
you do not understand me. As a child, I tempted 
you to row with me, because I admired your uniform, 
and because you were Captain, and I wanted people 
to see me; I divided my roses with you, because 
you satisfied my vanity; the motive that should 
lead me to consent to sail with y^ou over the ocean of 
life should be born of the purest love; my heart may 
possess it; I do not know, I can not tell yet; but, dear 
Carl, I do think the roses are budding, and the sunshine 
of the past few days has developed them greatly. Now, 
can’t you wait till they are full-blown roses? And 
should they, from after cause, blight and drop before 
they are full of the sweetest nectar, I know you will not 
censure Dora—will yt)u, Carl?” 

Carl sat silent and thoughtful a while, and then repeated 
this stanza: 


7 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


" Over our hearts and into our lives 
Shadows sometimes fall; 

But the sunshine is never wholly dead, 

And Heaven is shadowless overhead, 

And God is over all.” 

Carl landed the boat, assisted Dora to the shore, ac¬ 
companied her home, and promised to call in the morn 
ing before he took the train. He went slowly and 
thoughtfully to his room at the hotel. 

At ten o’clock the landlord rapped at Carl’s door and 
handed him a telegram. It read as follows: — 

“Dear Son:— Come home at once. 

“F. McKenzie.” 

Carl said: “How long till the first train west?” 

“Just thirty minutes, ’ was the reply. 

Carl knew it was too late then to call and see Dora; 
he sat down and hastily wrote: 

“Eagle House, :o p. m. 

“My Dearest Dora: A telegram this moment calls me 
home; I cannot tell why, as it simply says, ‘come at once,’ 
and is from my father; I fear the worst; I know that in 
whatever sorrow the near future may have in store for 
me, I shall have the comfort of your sympathy. Oh Dora, 
can you not be mine, mine for life? Believe me, I can, 
I will, row our boat clear of the fall. Will you not reply 
to this and tell me I may try? 

“Your own Carl.” 

Carl sealed this note and took it to the office, which he 
found closed; he struck a match and by the light which 
it afforded found the slot in the weather-boarding. In 
his haste the letter seemed to stick, and would not drop 
into the box; the match in his hand went out, but Carl 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


99 


pushed the letter on, and when he lighted another match 
he saw that it had disappeared. 

On arriving at home, Carl found no one sick or dead, 
but an uncle of his from Iowa, who was passing through 
and could only stop for the night and the next day, and 
the father knew Carl wanted to see him, 

Carl listened with the most intense interest to his 
uncle’s vivid descriptions of the glowing west, and secret¬ 
ly made up his mind at least to visit that country. He 
could go there and make a home for himself and Dora. 

He did not doubt what her reply to the letter would 
be. He knew he loved her and believed she loved him. 

40 

Day after day passed and still no letter came. He could 
not understand it. He thought of writing again, but then 
he thought, what use? She had, no doubt, the one already 
written, and, if she could treat that so coldly, she would 
treat a less impassioned one more so. 

He would go west anyway. But, after his trunk was 
packed, he was induced to give it up by the tears of his 
parents. However, the spring of ’74 found Carl on his 
way to the town of D, in Iowa, to take charge of the 
schools in that thriving little town. Carl visited for a 
few days with his uncle and had his first experience in 
shooting prairie chickens on the wing, a sport of which 
he became exceedingly fond. When he visited the town 
of D, where he was destined to remain for twelve years, 
he met the board, signed his contract, and arranged for 
a course of study, a thing this school had never had. 

He then, in company with the president of the board, 
went to visit the school-building. It made an imposing 
appearance on the outside, and Carl was much pleased. 


IOO 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


But when they entered it, and he saw the falling plaster, 
the worn-out blackboards, the broken windows, the pen¬ 
cil marks, the vulgar caricatures, the dirty floors, the 
entire lack of apparatus of any kind whatever, (not a 
globe, map, chart, or even eraser could be seen—not a 
clock, or a picture on the walls)—when Carl saw all this, 
he well knew that no man could teach a successful 
school inside such uninviting walls. He turned to the 
president of the board, and said: “Sir, do you expect 
me to teach school in such a place as this? If you do, 
please accept my resignation at once.” Before they sep¬ 
arated the president had promised Carl to have the 
house put in order. At the next meeting of the board 
the contract for repairs was let; Carl’s course of study 
presented, accepted, and ordered printed. At this meet¬ 
ing the president stated to Carl that the board had em¬ 
ployed him to have charge of the school; that so far as 
consistent they would comply with all his reasonable re¬ 
quests; that in the matter of government they would 
stand by him; but when he found it was necessary to 
call them together to settle difficulties, they would be 
glad to receive his resignation. 

Carl thanked the president for this frank statement; 
said when he found he could not govern the school he 
would resign; and hoped they would turn a deaf ear to 
any gossip they might hear concerning the school, and 
asked them to come to him with any reports against him 
or his school-work. He assured them his government 
would be mild, but firm. He asked them to not expect 
results too soon, as it took time to lay a broad founda¬ 
tion, and he realized that in his work here he must nec- 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


IOI 


essarily begin at the bottom. He stated further to them 
that he had come there to stay; that he felt sure efficient 
work would be appreciated here as well as in any other 
place; and that he realized that one of the most fatal mis¬ 
takes both to the schools and teachers, was the frequent 
change of teachers. Therefore, whether he should re¬ 
main long or not, he came with the full expectation of 
remaining. He stated further that his work would al¬ 
ways be open to their inspection, or to the inspection of 
any patron of the school, and that he should always 
court the fullest investigation of his work, both as 
to instruction and discipline; that he would have nothing 
to keep from their scrutiny or that of patrons. Finally, 
he said: “Gentlemen, I hope you will take pains to in¬ 
troduce me to the parents, whenever an opportunity 
occurs, for I wish to know every one who has an inter¬ 
est in the school.” 

Among the many to whom Carl was introduced, there 
was one, a young physician, fresh from college, by the 
name of Corwin. Between Carl and Dr. Corwin there 
grew up the most intimate friendship. The Doctor fre¬ 
quently took Carl with him on his rides to the country, 
and these trips were most restful and delightful to Carl 
after his close application and confinement in the school¬ 
room. Carl always felt grateful to the Doctor for his 
thoughtful kindness; and, on the other hand, it was a 
pleasure to the Doctor to have with him one so cheer¬ 
ful and talkative and hopeful; for the early experience 
of a young physician, just starting in life, is not always 
conducive to hopeful and pleasant thought. 

Carl was not only a member of the church, but was a 


102 


BUCKEYE-HAWICEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


regular attendant at all its services, and it was not long 
until the Doctor was likewise a member and an attend¬ 
ant. Carl, however, never claimed to have influenced 
the Doctor in this direction. 

Upon the opening of the school, in September, the 
interior of the building presented a striking contrast to 
the scene that met CarPs view on his first visit. The 
walls had been calcimined, the boards repainted, the 
wood-work grained, the floors and windows cleaned; a 
clock had been placed in every room. Every room 
possessed a new pail and cup, thermometer, erasers, 
pointers, and a vase for flowers. 

The out-buildings had been carefully looked after, and 
the yard had been mowed and raked. Carl had arranged 
to board with Ezra and Mary Brown. They were 
a quiet, unassuming couple, about fifty years of age, 
and resided in a quiet and shady part of town. Mary 
was one of the best of housewives, and Ezra had a pas¬ 
sion for good novels and fine horses. 

On Wednesday before school opened, Carl met all his 
teachers in the high-school room, for a talk about their 
work; and, should these pages fall into the hands of 
some one about to enter the graded school, let such an 
one read slowly. 

When a friendly hand of greeting had been given to 
each one, Carl said: “Ladies, I wish to briefly outline the 
scope of work we have before us. Some of the things I 
may mention may at first seem trivial and unimportant, 
but years of close observation have taught me their value. 
First of all: Your rooms have been put in good order for 
your reception; see to it that they are kept so. Let the 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


IO 3 


vase on your desk never lack for flowers. In each of 
your rooms you will find a thermometer; look at its face 
many times each day. Your ventilation registers will 
need your careful attention. Study closely the light and 
shade of your window-blinds. Your rooms have been 
supplied with waste-baskets; allow no waste paper to 
find its way into the coal-box or to be left on the floor. 
Order, neatness, cleanliness, and a pure atmosphere will 
always be characteristic of the successful teacher, and 
the lack of these or any of these will characterize the 
unsuccessful teacher. Should the janitor at any time neg¬ 
lect any of his duties or become insolent in his manner, 
you will report the same to me at once. Next, as to in¬ 
struction: A printed copy of the course of study you al¬ 
ready have in your possession; keep a copy always in 
your desk, for ready reference, and also a copy at your 
home. I have carefully prepared a more specific outline 
for this term’s work for each of you, and I wish you to 
carefully carry it out. You will also find, attached to 
this outline work, a copy of your daily programme; keep 
it always exhibited in your rooms. I have had special 
boards painted in your rooms for this purpose. Our 
course of study is not to be a dead letter —it is to be 
spirit and life. We will not be vacillating—one month 
all excitement on this hobby, and next month something 
else—and thus ever changing, like the skin of the cha¬ 
meleon. Such a plan could bring only disaster. 

“Each room will commit to memory a poem each term, 
and recite it aloud in my presence. Sparta conquered 
when her sons had learned the poems of Tyrtseus. 

“Third, as to government: We must first govern our- 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


IO4 

selves. By this I mean, let no teacher, under any circum¬ 
stances whatever, allow herself to say aught against any 
other teacher in the building. Should you do so, your 
resignation will at once be requested. Our trials are 
mutual we must be united. The same will hold good in 
regard to your pupils; do not say evil of the most refrac¬ 
tory; punish when necessary, but do not speak evil against 
the pupil. Believe me, every boy and every girl has a 
good side somewhere —search till you find it. 

“As to corporal punishment: I insist that but one kind 
shall be administered, viz: a good switching, with the 
natural branch. Pinching, slapping, tying handkerchiefs 
over mouths, putting pepper on the tongue, and all such 
practices are heathenish, and will not be permitted. 
Many of our pupils will come from vicious homes; let us 
make their school environment conducive to the devel¬ 
opment of their better natures; if they do not get it 
here, they will not get it anywhere. Our regular teach¬ 
er’s meeting will occur each Monday evening, and, at our 
first meeting next Monday evening, we will decide upon 
a text book in Mental Science, and we will form a class 
in that delightful study. The school on Monday even¬ 
ings will be dismissed at 3.45 o’clock, and thirty minutes 
will be devoted to teacher’s meeting proper, and thirty 
minutes to Mental Science. 

In conlusion, I wish to say, ladies, your first and great¬ 
est duty is to interest the child in himself. Begin to do 
this the first day, and keep on doing it every day in the 

year.. Lead him day after day to see more clearly that 
the life he builds here, he must take with him into eter¬ 
nity—that he can never put away from self. Let us re- 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


105 

alize as teachers, that the child we mold and fashion 
awakens into this life like Adam in the garden of Eden, 
and finds himself in a paradise, higher than the bloom 
and fruitage, higher than the streams and embalming 
shades can create. He finds the earth a vast and per¬ 
fect apparatus of means adapted to ends. And God 
created it all for him. Every tint, and every harmony, and 
every impulse nature gives, is for the development of 
the children we teach.” 

There lived, in the town of D, a man by the name of 
Barney Strong. He is introduced to these pages because 
year after year he met Carl, on his way to school, and 
always had a passing greeting. He was an old North 
Carolinian, tall and bony, with shaggy beard and long 
hair silvered with age. His pants of blue jeans, his 
“wammus”, and broad-brimmed white hat, were as famil¬ 
iar as his face. He was known for miles around as the 
“weather prophet.” When he was first introduced to 
Carl, he looked him over and said: “Wall, you’re a likely 
lookin’ chap. Take keer, boys, that ere Eph of mine’s a 
smart ’n. He never causes the teacher any trouble. I 
say, take keer now, boys, he’s a writer I—I see, but he 
writes with the best of them. So school begins a Mon¬ 
day?'—wall, you’ll have a nice day—moon don’t full till 
Thursday. ” 

There are no scenes that linger longer in our memories, 
or sink deeper into our hearts, than those of September 
morns, when old Nature is rallied in the fruitage of the 
opening autumn. The air is cool and freighted with 
the pollen of the corn and golden-rod. The sound of 
the school-bell, the bustle and hurry of the home, the 


/ 


106 BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 

filling of the dinner-pails, the gathering up of the books, 
laid aside since spring vacation, the joyous voices of the 
merry children, upon every road and street, buoyant with 
life and vigor, all conspire to develop the best and pur¬ 
est elements in our natures. The teacher stands in the 
school-house door, with pleasant face and outstretched 
hand, greeting all alike, rich or poor, white or black. 
What a blessing that warm grasp and that bright smile 
to many a pinched, dwarfed life, that has known only 
kicks and cuffs at home, and cursings on the street. 
May there not be here an opportunity for Galilean mir¬ 
acles—eyes to be opened, ears to be unstopped, dead pos¬ 
sibilities to be resurrected? Such were Carl’s thoughts 
as he stood in the open doorway at the beginning of the 
first day’s labor in the Hawkeye State. When evening 
came, Carl felt well satisfied with his first day’s work. 
He had learned the names of the pupils; formed a kind 
of classification, subject to changes; and made friends 
with most of his pupils. He had convinced them of one 
thing, that the fault should be theirs if there was not 
cheerful, pleasant work for them all in the future. 

Carl made careful preparation for what he called his 
"morning talks on general history . ” These talks occupied 
twenty minutes after the opening exercises every morn¬ 
ing. With a map, in full view of the school and pointer 
in hand, Carl led his pupils on, day after day, through 
the history, of the centuries. At the same time an outline 
of the subject was made on the board, and copied by 
the pupils. The degree of interest awakened was won¬ 
derful; soon the pupils were asking for books of refer¬ 
ence. Carl immediately arranged for a school entertain- 


BUCKEYE HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


107 


ment. He offered a prize of a silk flag to the room sell¬ 
ing the most tickets. As a result every seat in the town- 
hall was taken. The entertainment was first-class, as 
was every one that followed. Thus the people became 
anxious for their school entertainments. Not a cent of 
the money was wasted; a large library was soon gath¬ 
ered; pictures were put upon the walls, apparatus of 
every kind was secured for every grade. Go, teacher, do 
thou likewise!—thou canst. 

The books were read, at home and at school, by the 
pupils. The desire to read the best books became con¬ 
tagious, and*The ‘older people organized a Historical So¬ 
ciety, and afterward a C. L. S. C., of which Carl him¬ 
self was an active member, and became a graduate. 
There was no trouble in governing such a school —the 
school governed itself! 

I do not mean to say there were no misdeeds and no 
punishments; but such occurrences were rare, and every 
wrong committed was promptly met and punished. 

Every day Carl met his old friend, Barney, and learn¬ 
ed of the weather. 

When the first snow came, Carl said: "Barney, what do 
you think of this snow—will it last long?” 

"Wall, ef it fell in the dark of the moon it may last 
some time; I’ve allers noticed that ef you throw a board 
out on the dark of the moon, it’ll go down, and ef you 
throw it down in the light of the moon it’ll turn 
up.” 

"I suppose, Barney,” said Carl, "every man ought to 
tell the truth?” 

"Thar’s no man,” said Barney, "but w-w-what’ll vary a 


io8 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


leetle; I-I-I’ll bet all I’m wurth that any of our preach¬ 
ers’ll vary a leetle. I-I-I’ve tried ’em.” 

“But a man may not choose to tell everything, Bar¬ 
ney,” said Carl. 

”T-t-take keer there now, boys, the Good Book tells 
us to be prompt in all things.” 

“That’s right, Barney, I do not believe you would 
lie. ” 

“T-t-take keer there now, boys! No, if-if-if a man 
asks me anything, I’ll tell him the truth, every whack.” 

Year after year, the school at D grew and prospered; 
year after year, the same teachers were employed at in¬ 
creased salaries; year after year, pupils from other dis¬ 
tricts flocked in, until the school-board was compelled 
to build additional school room. The outside attendance 
added wealth to the town, vivacity to the school, and 
pleasure to the social circle. 

Carl labored on with a double purpose in view, viz., 
the good of mankind, and a home some day, somewhere, 
with—dared he hope—Dora, “some sweet day, some 
sweet day.” 


CHAPTER IX. 


THE LOST LETTER. 

" The tender trouble of her eyes 

Is burning hope deferred: the tears ' 

In witness of her grief, arise 
From day to day, through all the years.” 

Dora Dundore had been born and reared in the sub¬ 
urbs of the town of R. Her father was a wealthy farmer. 
There is, perhaps, no more fertile spot anywhere in the 
world than the Scioto valley. Mr. Dundore was the pos¬ 
sessor of four hundred acres of this productive soil, and 
his possession touched the corporation line of R. 

He was one of the few farmers that could oversee a 
farm successfully without doing its drudgery. 

His wife was a literary lady of fine culture, and was 
always foremost in every enterprise of philanthropy. 
Her parents were both “Quakers,” and in the home circle 
the whole family used the plain language of the 
“Friends. ” 

Dora had two brothers and one sister, all younger than 
herself. Her sister, who was the youngest, was at once 
the pet and plaything of the whole family. 

When Carl first met Dora, her dark expressive eyes 
and her sprightly imperious manner were her chief at¬ 
tractions. The slight willfulness, which was displayed 

109 


no 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


when a child, gave energy and self reliance to her char¬ 
acter as she appproached womanhood. Both pride and 
ambition, as well as a sense of duty, impelled her to do 
well whatever she undertook to do. Nature had given 
her more than average mental ability, and no pains were 
spared by the loving parents in the development of her 
intellectual faculties. During her school-life, Dora 
learned the most valuable lesson that any student can 
learn, and that lesson was, to study from love for study. 
She did not however allow her school-work to cause her 
to neglect physical exercise. „ She enjoyed riding horse¬ 
back and frequently made half-day excursions to the 
country, with her father or brothers for company. There 
was no form of outdoor exercise that gave her so much 
pleasure, as a quiet row on the river. Almost any pleas¬ 
ant day she might be seen sending her boat swiftly up 
the stream. Sometimes she would land under some 
shady tree and read or dream an hour or two; but more 
often she would row until tired, and then, turning 
the boat toward home, would slowly float with the cur¬ 
rent. 

But Dora Dundore did not live the life of a dreamer. 
She could not; the life blood that coursed with such 
strength and vigor through her veins, imparted too 
much vitality, too much energy, to permit an idle life. 
Trained to habits of industry by a careful, Christian 
mother, Dora found, as every oldest daughter may find, 
that many of her mother’s cares and duties were passing 
into her hands, and, being an unselfish, loving, conscien¬ 
tious girl, their discharge was a pleasure rather than a 
burden to her. The influence of a Christian home, and 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


III 


daily reading of God’s word had early led Dora to 
see the need of spiritual development, and so carefully 
was she taught and trained, that her religious life had 
grown as her mind grew. She took delight in the reading 
of her Bible, in secret prayer, and in the public wor¬ 
ship, because it satisfied the demands of this faculty 
that an allwise Father had given her to develop. 

These she felt to be just as enjoyable as the row on 
the river, or the studies of some new subject. Nor is it 
strange, that she should enjoy them. She had devel¬ 
oped the capacity for their enjoy 7 nent. Her parents fully 
appreciated the truth, that we can enjoy doing only 
those things which we have strength to do; and so, little 
by little, all her life, they cared for the spiritual nature 
of their child, and taught her to do those things that 
would add to her spiritual strength. She enjoyed the 
row on the river, because she was physically strong; she 
enjoyed the mastery of new subjects, because she had 
mental power , and she found delight in the performance 
of religious duties, because the development of the 
highest and best part of her nature had not been neglected. 
Dora was not perfect; she was simply a healthy, happy, 
conscientious, Christian girl, who loved home and pa¬ 
rents, laughed and sang with her brothers and baby sis¬ 
ter, and did each day the duties nearest to her hand, 
and trusted her heavenly Father for the morrow. 

After her adventure on the water with Carl, when the 
gratification of her childish vanity came nearly not only 
costing her her own life but that of another, for a long 
time she was more serious and thoughtful than ever be¬ 
fore in her life. No thoughtful mind can realize that 


112 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


they have been so near eternity, and not be sobered by 
the thought. 

All through her childhood days she loved to wander 
down the street to the old mill, and although, for years, 
she would involuntarily catch her breath at sight of the 
dam, and a feeling of fear would thrill her whole being 
at sound of the waters falling over into the current 
below, she could not find it in her heart to wish that 
the circumstance had not occurred. 

The time of roses never came but she remembered 
that she had once shared them with the playfellow who 
saved her life. 

As years passed, Dora formed the habit of comparing 
Carl with the boys who were her playfellows. Knowing 
so little of him and admiring him for that one act of 
bravery, she did just what every girl and woman in this 
world does at one time in her life—forms an ideal char¬ 
acter and invests a poor, imperfect piece of humanity with 
its characteristics. Happy the man who has manhood 
enough to try to live somewhere near the ideal created 
for him by the woman who loves him; and happy the 
woman whose blindness continues through life, and who 
never realizes that her idol is clay —common clay. 

When Dora met Carl at the spelling-school, he in no 
way disappointed her. She was too honest to disguise 
the pleasure that meeting of him gave her, and too young 
to ask herself why every incident connected with that 
meeting was recalled over and over again with so much 
enjoyment. 

No school exhibition, church or Sabbath-school socia¬ 
ble was quite complete without Dora. She was a favor- 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


113 

ite not only with her young companions, but with older 
people as well. She had a clear, sweet voice and, whether 
heard in recitation or song, it never failed to please 
those who listened. 

I insert a little poem composed by her at the age of 
twelve years, and declaimed at the school exhibition: 

THE FARMING MAN. 

“ Who may with the farmer vie? 

See his tields of wheat and rye: 

Harvest yields a rich supply— 

To the farming man. 

When the autumn winds appear, 

See his corn with golden ear; 

Welcome seasons of the year— 

To the farming man. 

See the orchard’s fruitful trees; 

Apples lie among the leaves, 

Peaches better still than these— 

For the farming man. 

And to make the sweetest wine 
Plucks the grapes from off the vine; 

Everything is done in time— 

By the farming man. 

Horses fine may farmers keep. 

Cows and hogs, and fleecy sheep; 

Everything is here complete— 

With the farming man. 

He has buckwheat, oats, and hay; 

Fowls of many kinds alway; 

Plenty crowns the autumn day— 

For the farming man. 

Blest are they who own a farm, 

For the country has a charm 
Pleasing to the heart that’s warm— 

Like the farming man.” 

While not an artist, Dora dearly loved to use her pen¬ 
cil; and many an overhanging tree or rugged bluff along 


8 


114 BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 

the bank of her favorite river, had been reproduced by 
her on canvas. But, among all her pictures, there was 
not one in which she had put so much of patient work 
and tender memories, as the picture of the old mill-dam. 

When Dora learned of Carl’s intended visit to R, her 
heart told her at once that he was coming to see her; 
she then believed what she had long hoped, that she 
sjtill lived in his affections. She was now in her early 
womanhood. She had known nothing of Carl during all 
the years since the spelling-school. She could only re¬ 
member the boy. She knew she had admired the boy; 
but would she love the man? Would he be educated and 

refined? He would mark the changes in her as well_ 

would they please him? 

Her affections had been sought by other young men, 
but their proffered love was not reciprocated, although 
at one time she had tried to persuade herself to care for 

one who seemed in every way a most estimable young 
man. 

She tried to think calmly of CarPs intended visit and 
to prepare herself for it. Possibly, he would make only 
a formal visit. Possibly he had not remembered her with 
the same warmth of feeling that she had remembered 
him perhaps, after all, it would really be a business trip, 
and he would return without even visiting her. 

On the other hand, should he offer his love—and 
in spite of her effort, her face would flush when the 
thought came—could she reciprocate it? Was he not, 
after all, a stranger to her? Certainly she could not trust 
her future to the keeping of one who was so nearly a 
stranger. 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


115 


Should she receive him in a cold, formal manner until 
she knew more of his feelings and purposes? 

When all these thoughts had passed through her mind 
a thousand times and more, she decided that, if he was 
aiming to see her, the first place he would visit would 
be the old mill-dam. She 'would meet him there; she 
would take this as an index of his feelings toward her, 
and she would meet him kindly and, if he offered her his 
protection and his love, she would not refuse them. 
Carl had always been a factor, uninvited, yet ever mys¬ 
teriously present, in all her schemes of future life. When 
he came and she met him at the boat, she did not feel satis¬ 
fied that she knew her own heart as she had thought she 
would. And long after Carl had gone to his own rooms, 
she sat by her window not drearning , but with every fac¬ 
ulty alert , reviewing the hours of the afternoon and even¬ 
ing and trying to plan her future, for she knew, now, 
that sooner or later, there would come to her a question 
which she must answer. And from her inmost heart she 
wanted to be able to decide for the good, as well as the 
present happiness, of both herself and Carl. 

She did not, she could not, decide it now; and, kneel¬ 
ing, she prayed earnestly for wisdom and guidance in 
this one of the most important events of her life. 

Day after day, during Carl’s visit, Dora learned to re¬ 
alize the depths of her affection for him. And she had 
almost determined when the supreme moment came, 
when he should ask her companionship for life, that she 
would give the answer her heart prompted, and Carl so 
much desired. But when it came she was not ready, she 
would be sure of herself, would know more of Carl be- 


u6 buckeye-hawkeye school-master 

fore she would bind herself by any definite promise. Carl 
had seemed so sure of a favorable reply, perhaps, she 
had unconsciously encouraged him to believe that she 
was to be had for the asking. His slightly confident 
manner touched her pride, and she determined to 
not give him just the answer he most desired. Dora, 
however, was not a little disappointed, when Carl 
bade her a kind, almost a tender, good night, but did not 
once allude to the thought that each knew to be upper¬ 
most in the mind of the other. Before they reached 
home she would have given all the world, had she an¬ 
swered him as her heart dictated. Had Carl really 
called that night at ten o’clock, he would have found 
Dora still awake, and his dark forebodings would have 
been lightened, and his heart cheered and comforted by 
what her eyes, if not her lips, would have told him. 

Her first awakening thought, the next morning, was 
that Carl would call early to bid her good-bye. Would 
he renew his request—could she reasonably hope that he 
might? 

She gathered the choicest flowers and arranged two 
tiny bouquets, in each of which she put a rose, a pansy, 
and a dainty sprig of heliotrope; drawing a single strand 
of hair from her glossy braids, she bound them together 
in such a way that they would separate easily. When Carl 
came, he should have one, and she would keep the other 
—she knew that he would understand. Much has been 
said of maidenly loveliness; pen and brush, in the hand 
of poet and painter, have vied with each other to pro¬ 
duce a picture, that may impress the heart through the 
eye or ear, as does the vision of budding woman-hood. 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 117 

But father, mother, and lover know that no poet’s dream 
or painter’s canvas ever rivaled for one moment, in sweet¬ 
ness or beauty, the dainty, girlish creature, who is all 
the world to them. Such was the thought of Mr. and 
Mrs. Dundore, as Dora, in a pale pink morning gown, 
passed lightly from room to room, with a smile on her 
lips and light in her eye. She was happy, and that 
happiness beamed from every feature of her expressive 
countenance. Nothing of this escaped the mother's no¬ 
tice, and her smile was not all joy, as she heard the 
sweet, full tones of her daughter’s voice, singing an old 
love song which she learned to please her father. 

But the moments flew by, and no Carl came. She 
heard the whistle of the train; it was now too late to 
expect him, and with anxious face and heavy heart she 
went about her daily duties. As the day wore away, she 
felt that she must be alone; she could not longer appear 
indifferent. The weather was delightful, she would go 
to the river. She walked slowly down to where the boat 
was moored, she unlocked it, stepped in, and pushed out 
from the shore. As she took up the oars, the events of 
the past few days, and especially the conversation of the 
day before, came vividly before her. Her eyes filled 
with tears and, as she slowly pulled up the stream, she 
wondered if it were possible that he had misconstrued 
her ans\ver into a positive refusal. She felt that this 
was hardly possible—she had but asked him to wait—and 
waiting, he might hope. The thought that Carl had been 
base enough to win her affections to gratify his vanity, 
and really cared nothing for her, was one unworthy of 
herself and dishonorable to a friend. Her woman’s heart 


n8 buckeye-hawkeye school-master 

was wrought upon by fears, of she knew not what. Sud¬ 
denly the thought came that he might be sick in his 
room at the hotel. Reproaching herself for her thought¬ 
lessness, she would go at once and inquire. She turned 
her boat toward home, but before she reached the shore 
her heart failed her. Why should a young lady be in¬ 
quiring at a hotel' for a young gentleman? What expla¬ 
nation could she offer to the landlord? Heart-sick and 
sad she returned to her home, and, without seeing any of 
the family, went at once to her own room. She removed 
her hat and, tossing to one side her roses, threw herself 
upon the couch and wept long and bitterly. 

When the supper hour came, her place was vacant. 
She did not respond to her mother’s call. Somewhat 
alarmed, the mother ascended to Dora’s room and found 
her still weeping. 

A few broken words and her daughter’s tears told the 
loving mother more plainly than the clearest explana¬ 
tion could have done, the cause of the sudden change 
that had come over the happy girl of the morning. With 
loving words and tender caresses the mother bathed the 
aching head, and cheered the heavy heart of her child. 
As Dora grew calmer she laid her head upon her moth¬ 
er’s knee and told her all that there was to tell, both of 
childish dreams and girlish love. 

Then she told her mother of the question asked the 
day before, and the answer she had given. The moth¬ 
er’s breath came quickly but she said quietly, as she 
passed her hand lovingly over the waving brown hair, 
which shadowed the pure white forehead: "You did 
quite right, my dear, in not deciding quickly; and 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 119 

whether this experience brings thee all joy, or subjects 
thee to trial, thou hast a loving Father’s care, and 
‘all things work together for good to those who love 
Him.’” Dora soon became quiet and the mother left 
her. 

It was decided that her father should go to the hotel 
and ascertain if Carl was still there; if not, at what time 
he left. Upon making inquiry he was informed that Mr. 
McKenzie had received a telegram the previous even¬ 
ing, the contents of which the landlord did not know— 
that he seemed much excited—asked the time of the 
first train, paid his bill, hurriedly wrote a letter, asked 
for an envelope and stamp, took it to the post-office and 
went immediately to the train. Mr. Dundore turned 
his steps towards the post-office expecting to find the 
letter for Dora, that would make the necessary explana¬ 
tion. So he walked leisurely down that way, talking 
with one and another he met on the street. As he came 
within a block of the office, he met Deacon Smith who 
lives just across the river and was known far and wide 
for his acts of charity, and staunch nobility of char¬ 
acter. Dundore and Smith had known each other from 
boyhood; they were members of the same church and 
used the plain language; both were staunch Republicans. 
After chatting a few minutes about the crop prospect, 
Smith said: “ Neighbor Dundore, I would like to have a 
little private talk with you, and, as soon as I mail this 
letter, I will return.” 

‘‘I will go with you, neighbor,” said Dundore, “as I 
have not been this morning.” 

The two stalwart farmers walked together down the 


120 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


street to the post-office. Deacon Smith mailed his let¬ 
ter, and Mr. Dundore asked for his mail. 

“Nothing for you, Mr. Dundore,” said the postmaster. 

“Have any of the family got the mail to-day?” said 
Mr. Dundore. 

“No, there has none come for you.” 

“May I ask if thou wilt be so kind as to look into 
the box, receiving the mail from the outside slot?” said 
Mr. Dundore. 

“It is not necessary, as I have already looked in there 
once to-day," said Mr. Dewey, dryly. 

Dundore and Smith walked out of the office, and when, 
a few minutes after, they were seated on two boxes, in 
the back-room of Arment’s store, Smith began : “Neighbor, 
Dundore, thee and me have known each other for a great 
many years, and I have always found thee a faithful 
friend—one in whom I could confide my secret thoughts.” 

“And I can say the same of thee, neighbor Smith," 
said Dundore. 

“Now,” continued Smith, “what lam about to say 
concerns the man we have just left, Michael Dewey, 
our postmaster. Some time ago I mailed a letter to 
widow Smolton, whom you know is needy, and as the 
Bible says ‘Let not thy right hand know what thy left 
hand doeth/ I put the letter through the slot on the 
outside. I asked the widow to acknowledge the receipt 
of this letter, which she never has done. But this is not 
all, neighbor Dundore —others have been losing letters 
and money in the same way. The good Lord knows I 
do not wish to judge anyone wrongfully. Mr. Dewey has 
always seemed like a straight-forward man; he pays his 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


121 


debts; he is temperate and frugal. I signed the petition 
to Abraham Lincoln, asking for his appointment. I have 
not mentioned my suspicions to anyone but thyself, and 
I have come to thee for advice and counsel.” 

‘‘What you say indeed seems strange, neighbor Smith. 
Michael Dewey has always seemed to me like an up 
right man, and we have not a better Republican among 
us than he. Suppose we let the matter rest for awhile, 
and await further developments. We have no positive 
proof at present, and I am a firm believer in the state¬ 
ment ‘murder will out.' > “ 

Deacon Smith concurred with Mr. Dundore, and so 
their conversation ended. 

Mr. Dundore thought seriously of the matter as he 
walked homeward. Arriving at home he related to Dora 
and her mother all that he had learned of the telegram, 
and the sudden departure of Carl McKenzie. 

For a long time Dora looked daily for a letter from 
Carl, but as the time lengthened into weeks, and then 
into months, she no longer expected it. She heard, 
through the friends who had written of his intended visit 
to R, that he had gone to Iowa; and then, except as he 
lived in her memory, he had dropped entirely out of 
her life. 

While attending the Friends’ College at Richmond, 
Indiana, Dora made many warm friends; among them 
was one to whom she was especially attached. This 
friend was the daughter of missionaries who had spent 
the best part of their lives in trying to Christianize the 
Indians of Montana. Mary Martin had lived among these 
people until she was twelve years of age, and loved her 


122 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


home and the work of her parents with a feeling that 
was almost devotion. About the time that Carl came to 
R, Mary had written Dora to come to the mountains, 
and spend the summer. It was talked over in family 
council, and decided that Dora could not be spared, but 
a pressing invitation had just been sent to Mr. and Mrs. 
Martin to allow Mary to come to Ohio and spend a few 
weeks, at least, with her school-mate. Mary came and 
won all their hearts with her pure, sweet face, and gentle, 
loving ways. The visit of weeks grew into months, and 
snow was on the ground when Mary Martin started for 
her western home. Besides the loving remembrances 
and kind wishes that Mary took with her, she carried 
the heart of a tall dark-eyed cousin of Dora’s. The next 
spring, investments were made in some mines not far 
from the reservation, and a new home wa6 made in the 
delightful little valley where Mary had always lived. 

Dora was losing sprightliness and vigor. She was 
not sick, but the daily round of simple duties was be¬ 
coming wearisome to her; she longed for a broader field 
and harder work. 

Two years had now passed since that memorable even¬ 
ing in the boat, and she had heard not a word from 
Carl, nor did she know anything of his whereabouts— 
only that he had gone to Iowa. Mary, in her far-away 
home, had written repeatedly for her to come to them 
and enjoy the benefit of the mountain air. The feeling 
of dissatisfaction with her life grew stronger and stronger; 
she knew that she had powers for usefulness that were 
unemployed, and, after consultation with father and 
mother, she wrote, offering herself as a helper to Mr. 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


123 


and Mrs. Martin, in their work among the Piegan In¬ 
dians. 

The offer was gladly accepted and all the preliminaries 
being settled, Dora began her preparations for her jour¬ 
ney. These were few and simple, and soon completed. 

Many were the loving admonitions and bits of advice, 
given by father and mother, in the quiet evening talks 
with this dear daughter who was so soon to try her 
wings outside the home-nest. Never had home seemed 
so dear, or home-companionship so sweet, as in those 
last few days. And had Dora not felt that she must 
have employment to occupy both hand and brain, and 
have no time for thought of self, she would even now 
have given up the work which she had undertaken. But 
there was too much persistence in her nature, and the 
sense of duty which urged her forward was too strong, 
to permit her to waver. 

On the morning previous to Dora's departure, the town 
of R was thrown into a fever of excitement. Deacon 
Smith's suspicions grew in his mind to certainties. 
People no longer whispered their suspicions, but talked 
them broadly in the street. The feeling became so 
strong this time that there was a petition, with many 
hundred signers, asking for Mr. Dewey’s removal. The 
Post-office Department at Washington had frequently 
been notified of the missing letters, and, at this very 
time, had one of Pinkerton’s detectives in the town, at 
work, although he was not known to the citizens. For 
a long time the detective was completely baffled. He 
found that whenever he mailed a letter in the office, 
it always reached its destination; but twice out of five 


124 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


times, when mailed through the outside slot, the letters 
were lost. 

Taking with him the officials of the town, he called 
at the post-office, put Mr. Dewey under arrest, and pro¬ 
ceeded to go through the contents of the office. Here he 
found everything all right. He then examined the let- 
tei-box. He handed a gentleman half a dozen letters 
and sent him on the outside to slip them in; when the 
lid was raised but four could be found. It was the work 
of a moment to tear off the box. All was plain: the lit¬ 
tle slot between the plastering and weather-boarding 
had slipped from its place, and, unless care was taken, 
the letters would fall down inside the plastering, instead 
of into the box on the inside. In a few moments, the 
lath and plaster were removed, and there were found 
more than one hundred letters which had failed to reach 
their destination. Among the many was one containing 
five dollars, addressed to Widow Smolton, and one which 
Carl McKenzie had written to Dora Dundore. 


CHAPTER X. 


a day’s experience copied from carl’s diary. 

Needful instruction; not alone in arts, 

Which to his humble duties appertain, 

But in the love of right and wrong, the rule 
Of human kindness, in the peaceful ways 
Of honesty and holiness severe. 

This is a glorious morning—never felt better in all my 
life. I hope for a good day’s work. Not a cloud in the 
sky outside. Mary’s coffee, steak, and waffles, all seemed 
to taste extra nice this morning. Some one is knocking— 

“Good morning, Mr. McKenzie.” 

“Good morning, Mr. Gillam.” 

"I don’t want to bother you in your work or find any 
fault with the school, but them Thornton boys keeps 
cloddin’ my Freddie, on the way home from school. I 
know Freddie is a good little boy, and always wants to 
do what is right; and I never knew him to tell a lie in 
all his life. I don’t allow him to fight, and we always 
tell him he must mind his teacher. I thought I would 
just tell you about it. It must be stopped or I’ll have to 
take Freddie out of school; I can’t have him crippled.” 

“Very well, Mr. Gillam, I shall look into the matter. 
Will be glad to have you visit the school, Mr. Gillam.” 
It is eight o’clock—passing down the street I meet my 
old friend. 


125 


126 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


“Good morning, Barney. This is a glorious morning; 
How about the weather to-morrow, Barney?” 

“T-t-take keer now, boys. It’ll be playin’ another 
tune now, mighty quick—I-I-IteJl you old Barney hain’t 
watched them ere stars all his life, for nothin’. It’ll 
snow before ten o’clock to-night. T-t-take keer now 
boys. Thirty-eight years ago to-morrow morning, and 
old Barney would be a goin’ out with his gun after a 
buck, and I’d git him, too." 

' Barney, how did you like Johnson’s sermon yesterday?” 

“Johnson is a mighty smart man. H-h-he is a calm 
man and can keep this thoughts together. That’s what 
it takes to make a smart man.” 

“What do you think of the legislature, Barney." 

“Both sides is wrong. T-t-t-take keer there, boys; 
they ought to be doin’ something else besides dividin’ the 
spoils. ” 

Here comes ten-year-old June. 

“Good morning, Mr. McKenzie; I brought you a bou¬ 
quet. ” 

“O, thank you, June—those are very beautiful; shall I 
kiss you for them?” 

“No, indeed, papa would be jealous if you did; and, 
besides, if you kissed me, I’d kiss you; and 3^011 see you 
would be still more in my debt than you are now, for 
you know, although flowers are sweet, that kisses are 
sweetest." 

I reached my office. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Smith." 

“Good morning, Mr. McKenzie; sorry to take your time, 
but the W. C. T. U. have arranged for a grand mass- 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


127 


meeting in the hall, to-night. The mayor and all the 
preachers are to speak, and we want a speech from you, 
also—just a ten minutes talk.” 

"I never make speeches, Mrs. Smith, and, really, I can¬ 
not grant your request.” 

"But they told me you was for temperance and the 
home. ” 

"Well, so I am, but I don’t make speeches." 

"Well you’ll be there anyway, and I know you’ll 
announce it through all the school.” 

"Certainly, I’ll do that, Mrs. Smith.” 

"Well, I’ll not take more of your time—Good morn¬ 
ing, Mr. McKenzie.” 

"Good morning." 

"Well, sir, what can I do for you?" 

"I do not wish to trespass upon your time, but I am 
here to represent Jones’ Brothers, and am selling the 
'Wonders of the World.’ 

"Can’t buy—you know the laws of this state forbid 
agents to vend their goods in school-buildings." 

"Good morning, sir." 

"Well, Nellie, what can I do for you?" 

"Here’s a note teacher sent you.” 

"Mr. McKenzie: I am unable to take charge of my 
room to-day. Will you please send a substitute? 

Teacher Fourth Grade.” 

"All right, Nellie—tell her I’ll send a substitute.” 

"Jimmie, you come next, my fine boy—what is it?" 

"Mr. McKenzie, please, teacher wants a box of cray¬ 
ons." 

"And here it is, Jimmie." 


128 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


"Della, let me see your note.” 

"Mr. McKenzie: Sir: My children was sent home 
for scarlet fever, and they are out a pensil and a Scratch- 
Book. Yu ’11 hunt them up and send them this noon. 

"Michael Mayho. ” 

"All right, Della; Pll look them up.” 

On my table, two notes: 

No. r. "Teecher, please let my little Henry Change his 
seet claud Romic sister have just got over scarlet fever 
and He is apt to take it eny time a most-and-Oblige 

"Mrs. E. J. Evans.” 

No. 2. 'Mr. Professor: This thing of children a study- 
in’ drawin’ i don’t see no sence in, and i don’t want my 
boy to study it—tech him his numbers, readin’and ritin’, 
that’s enough fur him to lurn. Thomas Snodgrass.” 

"I see I still have one occupant in the office beside 
myself—may I inquire your name?” 

"Joan Headly. ” 

"And you wish to enter school?” 

"Yes sir.” 

"How far have you been in arithmetic, Joan?” 

"Through Ray’s Third Part, three times.” 

"Oh, can you tell me the amount of 150 pounds of hay, 
at $4.00 per ton?” 

"How many pounds?" 

"One hundred and fifty.” 

"At what price?” 

"Four dollars per ton.” 

"Why, we never had anything like that—I never heard 
of such a problem.” 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER I' 2 Q 

"Well, take another one: three-fourths of twelve is 
three-fifths of what number?” 

"I’d have to have a pencil for that.” 

"Have you studied grammar?” 

“Oh yes, but I don’t know whether it is the same 
kind you have here or not.” 

“Will you analyze this sentence for me—Washington 
crossed the Delaware in the middle of the night.” 

“I can diagram it.” 

“But can you not analyze it?” 

“We only diagrammed where I went to school.” 

“Who was your teacher, Miss Headley?” 

“Miss Jane Simpson.” 

“I remember her quite well, she was in the Normal 
last year and she holds a first-class certificate. It is 
now my class-time, Miss Headley. There is the morn¬ 
ing paper; entertain yourself until my return.” 

Geometry class recited well, yet, I must confess a 
feeling of disappointment because in studying the lesson 
myself, I had Oscar Knell epecially in my mind, and he 
is absent this morning. In my office again, and Miss 
Headley assigned to seventh grade. Sat down and just 
began to look over mental science lesson for teachers’ 
meeting. A loud rap. 

“Good-morning. Mrs. Baker, I believe?” 

“Yes, sir, that’s just who it is.” 

“Will you be seated, Mrs. Baker?” 

“I haven’t time to set down, but I believe I will 
anyhow, for I see I am a little nervous. 

“Climbing the stairs, no doubt. Take this easier 
chair Mrs. B.” 

9 


i3° 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


"Well, sir, I just can’t stand this any longer—that 
teacher in seventh grade a-beating my boy. I just hate 
her; she ought never to have had a position in the 
school. ” 

"Have you visited the seventh grade, Mrs. Baker?" 

"No, sir, I have not." 

"Possibly if you visited the grade you might find 
things different from what you suppose them to be." 

"I do not wish to visit the room, and besides I am so 
thoroughly provoked with the teacher that I don’t wish 
to even speak to her.” 

"You say that the teacher has beaten Kee; when did 
this happen?” 

"It happened last Friday." 

"Where did she strike him, Mrs. Baker?” 

"Over the head, sir, and bruised it terribly." 

"I am sorry, indeed, if such is the case. Remain here 
a moment until I see the boy.” 

The boy, the teacher, and Mrs. B. all in the office. 

"Kee, did you have any trouble with your teacher on 
Friday? ” 

"No, sir." 

"None whatever?" 

"No, sir, only she slapped me with a blotter for being 
down between the seats." 

"Kee Baker! what did you tell me?" 

"Well, mother, I guess part of what I told you wasn’t 
so; you know I said 'that she struck me,’ and then I put 
my hand to my head where the bruise was; and you said, 
'the wretch and then I cried, and that’s all there was 
of it." 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


131 


"But how did you hurt your head, Kee?” 

“Well, Mr. McKenzie, I see you know all about it, so 
I guess I’ll tell the truth. Jim Snider and me didn’t 
want to speak Friday, so we played hook, and I fell off 
the top of a car and banged my head. Jim said I was 
senseless for awhile.” 

“Oh, my goodness—you, Kee Baker! ” 

“Never mind, Mrs. B; I .hope you are satisfied, and 
that you will have a more kindly feeling for the teacher, 
and a closer watch over your son. My class is waiting; 
so, good-day, and call again.” 

A fine recitation in Algebra. 

Recess—the Ones beat the Twos at football, and I 
am the worse of a bruised shin. 

On my way to dinner met Mr. Owen. He says that 
his children never learned so fast in their lives. Says, 
he will visit the school in a few days. 

Met the president of the board; he smiled and shook 
hands, and said he guessed everything was running 
nicely, as he had heard no complaints. 

In my office, just after dinner—Willie sobbing— 
“Well, what is it, Willie?” 

Willie begins to tell. “Sit down, Willie; I think, 
from what you say, you have told your teacher an un¬ 
truth. When you think it all over please tell me just 
the whole truth about it." At end of first half-hour, 
Willie is uneasy. 

“Well, my boy, what have you to say?" 

“I did tell my teacher a lie; and may I go down and 
tell her so, and that I am sorry?” 

“Yes, and your tears and manner tell me you are sorry.” 


132 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


3:45 p. m. All the teachers present at teachers’ meet¬ 
ing. The first fifteen minutes devoted to the discussion 
of Kindergarten work in the primary grades. Unani¬ 
mous opinion of the teachers that the work in solids 
and clay-modeling should be carried forward, through 
all the primary grades. And an outline of this work 
was promised for our next meeting. The last fifteen 
minutes devoted to synthetic reading. The discussion 
was very spirited, both pro and con. At the conclusion 
the principal gave his opinion as follows: 

“To the synthetic system in the hands of a skillful 
teacher, and combined with other methods, I have no 
objections. As has justly been said here this evening, 
the system requires study to understand it, and work to 
succeed with it. It seems to me the synthetic system 
is but a rounding out of McGuffey’s speller. Along expe¬ 
rience with McGuffey has taught me that to follow his 
idea, exclusively , is to perfect in articulation and pro¬ 
nunciation, at the expense of expression and thought, and 
I am satisfied that the synthetic system, used exclusively, 
would lead to the same result. I wish to say further,^ 
however, I would not recommend any person to the 
school-board, for a position as primary teacher, who had 
not mastered the synthetic method.” 

The first half of chapter five, Porter’s Psychology, 
taken up and discussed for thirty minutes. 

All alone in the office. Can hear the janitor whistling 
down-stairs. Good! I see Dr. Corwin driving up this 
way—that means a ride in the country; and then supper, 
and the temperance meeting, my mail, my lessons for 
to-morrow, and finally, sleep, blessed sleep! 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


133 


And so ends one day’s experience, taken verbatim et 
literatim from Carl McKenzie’s diary. 

This may seem an exaggerated day’s work; but every 
one who has had even a small experience in graded- 
school work will recognize it, perhaps as an off day, but 
as one which frequently comes. It was always said of 
Carl, by his assistant teachers, that he was always the 
same—not easily excited, and never allowed himself to 
become "fussy.” He was always polite, and, no matter 
how his work crowded him, he was always cheerful and 
hopeful. 

This tended to make every one around him cheerful. 
No teacher ever went to Carl for aid or advice but she 
received the kindest treatment; yet he was positive. 
He could say "no" so firmly, and yet so kindly, that all 
respected his decision, whether they believed it for the 
best or not. 

Carl was likewise pleasant and affable with the patrons 
of the school. He was very often found in the homes of 
his pupils. On Saturdays it was his custom to visit the 
stores and business houses, and speak a pleasant word 
with the proprietors. Carl was liked by the business men, 
not only for his sociability, but from the fact that he 
always paid the cash for whatever he bought. He never 
allowed his name to be placed on their ledgers. He 
claimed that a man on a salary could, if he would, pay 
for his goods when he bought them, and thus have at 
least a month’s wages at the end of the year to carry 
him over through vacation. 

Carl’s high-school boys always came to him for ad¬ 
vice, and out of ipany hundred talks I choose a brief one. 


134 


BUCKEYE-HAWKfcYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


The boy, whose given name was Thomas, was from 
the country; he was about sixteen years of age, and was 
a member of the Baptist church. His parents were well- 
to-do farmers. He said: 

"Mr. McKenzie, you seem to take a great deal of 
interest in us boys and girls, and as I want to get 
as much out of my life as possible, I wish you would 
outline a course of action for me to follow.” 

"Well, Thomas,” said Carl, “that is a pretty large 
request, but we will see what we can do with it. Let 
us get our bearings first—a kind of invoice of yourself. 
Physically, you are strong—plenty of bone and muscle; 
you are attending school, and trying to educate your¬ 
self; you already know that an education is not mem¬ 
orizing, but an awakening of your whole intellectual life 
to self-exertion and activity, and you are willing to toil 
to secure this, because it will make you useful to your¬ 
self and to mankind. You have learned that Christianity 
is not believing some dogma or creed, but that it is the 
active development of the soul in works of philanthropy 
and love, and the copying of your life after that of the 
Nazarene. 

"Now, let us look into the future. Care well for your 
physical body, and see to it, Thomas, that no act of yours 
ever degrades it. Continue your course at school, if 
possible, until you graduate from the college; be ever 
active in your work for church and Sunday-school. 

"But, Thomas, there is a business world, and you must 
mingle with it. Select you twelve men, and make it a 
point to show yourself particularly pleasant and polite 
to each of them; seek to do them little kindnesses; be 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


135 


in their society whenever you can do so politely; in 
short, interest those twelve men in yourself. Do not 
lose your interest in other men, but be especially inter¬ 
ested in these twelve. There will be many advantages to 
you arising from this: First, if they are men of char¬ 
acter—and you should select only such—their silent in¬ 
fluence, aside from their companionship, will lend you a 
dignity of character. Second: When you are older they 
will introduce you into business circles, and will give 
you a prestige you would not otherwise have. 

“Should you wish to enter a professional or political 
career, their influence will be a wonderful force in your 
behalf. Try this, Thomas, not in a half-hearted way , but 
persistently , and you are sure to succeed. Interest your¬ 
self in others, and others will interest themselves in 
you. Do not believe all men rascals, Thomas, but rather 
believe all men honest , until you find them to be dis¬ 
honest. Like Barney said to me this morning, 'T-t-take 
keer there, boys; we’re all good men, and only once in a 
while a bad one; t-t-take keer there, boys, you shouldn’t 
think every man a thief.’ 

“ ‘If what shines afar so grand, 

Turns to nothing in thy hand, 

On again; the virtue lies 
In the struggle y not the prize.' ” 

As the spring of 18— approached, Carl felt his health 
failing. Dr. Corwin advised him to do less work—but 
how could he? He toiled on day after day, feeling many 
an evening like he would rather lie down on the office 
floor than go to his boarding-place. At times like 
these there came to him a longing for a change of oc¬ 
cupation, but the door of no other vocation was near at 


136 BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 

hand. 'The Heavenly Father had especially fitted him 
for and called him to this work, and Carl believed_ 

“ That failing the appointed task, 

No further service he might ask. ” 

In March of this same year, Carl prepared and read 
the following paper before the students of Dexter Nor¬ 
mal School: 

THE TEACHER A FACTOR IN PROVIDENCE. ” 

There is much in our existence here that is indefinite 
and uncertain; but there are some things that are posi¬ 
tive and do not admit of uncertainty. We are sure of 
our existence; we are sure that the earth exists, and 
that it is only one of many planets. We are sure that 
order and harmony exist in the manifold works of 
nature around us. 

Reason is acknowledged by all scientists to be the 
highest faculty of the human mind, and reason can ar¬ 
rive at but one conclusion in respect to the above facts, 
viz: that the worlds, with all their beauty of system and 
harmony, must have come into existende through design, 
and not by chance, and that design implies a designer; 
and that design also implies purpose , for to design an 
existence of any kind without the element of purpose 
would be idiotic and ridiculous. The element of pur¬ 
pose in creation, as well as in construction, means that 
the minutest part has a purpose. 

The old statement, so often made, “that the idea of 
God is intuitive in the human soul," is pregnant with 
truth yea, it is the truth. The history of all peoples 
proves it. 

There are two corollaries which necessarily follow the 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 137 

proposition “that God exists.” The first is, that God 
created, understands, and upholds the universe by a 
ceaseless putting forth of divine energy. Second, that 
an ideal creator would not thus create, and uphold, and 
control, without a mighty, omnipotent purpose —a purpose 
coextensive in magnitude with our highest conceptions 
of love. 

It should not be thought inconsistent and unreasona¬ 
ble with this conception of God and the universe, that 
the highest earthly intelligence, the human mind, 
should attempt, by reason, by history, and by revela¬ 
tion, to catch glimpses of the golden thread of divine 
purpose, interwoven into the fabric of human existence. 
Neither should it be considered presumption if, from 
data of the past and a clear conception of the present, 
one should step a little way into the future and see this 
golden thread of providence in our own country’s history, 
and be able to see the human leaders of civilization, 
the common school teachers, as factors in the hands of 
the great Master and Teacher. To make such an attempt 
is the object of this paper. 

In the line of history, what can we say of the divine 
hand of providence? As to natural position, we are in 
the right latitude and under the right stars. 

It is an oft-repeated fact that the history of the 
world has been written between the parallels that 
bound the north temperate zone. That wonderful 
history of human discipline, “The Forty Years’ March 
in the Wilderness,” was in this latitude. Jesus of Naz¬ 
areth wrought his miracles by this temperate sunlight. 
The ancient tower of Babel stretched its unfinished sum- 


138 BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 

mit toward the clouds within this zone; and we find the 
most intelligent art of that scattered people, after'a 
lapse of years, rising higher and higher into intellectual 
grandeur, in the peninsula of Greece. Homer first recited 
the Iliad in this latitude. The battles of Marathon, 
Plataea, and Salamis were fought between these lines. 
Beneath these temperate stars was written that brilliant 
page in Grecian history, in which Pericles fostered the 
fine arts; and Grecian mothers gave birth to Socrates, 
Plato, and Aristotle. 

If we cross the Adriatic, in the same latitude, we may 
see the temperate sunlight kissing the hill-tops of Italy. 
Then will* come rushing to our mind her wonderful 
history—a marble city, queen of the world, a Caesar and 
a Cicero. We cross the Alps, and after the fifth century, 
a Charlemagne gathers together the splintered fragments 
of the western empire and binds them into one. And 
then comes the Norseman, disintegrating his empire 
and infusing that heroic blood into the veins of Central 
Europe, making her stronger and more invigorated. 
Then follow the Crusades, the Reformation, the growth 
and civilization of England—all of which is written within 
the boundaries of the north temperate zone, the latitude 
and the climate which has fostered the civilization and 
written the history of the world. 

Now, is it not providential that our country lies with¬ 
in the same latitude and is warmed by the same tem¬ 
perate sun? This divine thread can be seen in the de¬ 
velopment of the nations. Nations are developed just 
as individuals are. Every individual who reaches nor¬ 
mal maturity passes through five distinct stages of de- 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


139 


velopment: First, that of infancy, in which the child 
necessarily depends entirely upon the wisdom of the parent. 
It is a despotic existence. Second, is childhood, or disci¬ 
pline of conscience. Third, youth, or development of 
personal liberty. Fourth, discipline of will under social 
law. Fifth, development of philanthropy. 

It can be shown that our present civilization has 
passed through all five of these stages of development. 

Oriental civilization was one of absolute power. The 
Hebrew civilization was one of the discipline of the 
conscience. The Grecian civilization was one of per¬ 
sonal liberty. The Roman civilization was a development 
of will under social law. And, fifth and last, Christian 
civilization corresponds to the full ripened manhood, the 
age of active practical philanthropy . 

These wonderful facts could easily be bounded by 
dates and fully illustrated by examples, and let it suf¬ 
fice to say they stand out on the face of history so 
plainly that we are compelled to admit that complete 
Christian civilization is an element in the divine concep¬ 
tion of the ages. 

The history of our own country furnishes examples of 
the divine hand in our own destiny. 

Near the close of the fifteenth century, and during the 
famous Moorish war of the Spanish peninsula, there had 
settled in Lisbon the man who gave to the world a new 
continent. While Ferdinand and Isabella were planning 
campaigns against the Moors, Columbus was drawing 
maps and bringing into existence the idea of the rotund¬ 
ity of the earth. He was planning a campaign across 
the Atlantic. There were some things connected with 


140 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


this voyage which make transparent the hand of provi¬ 
dence. The first volume of Irving’s history of Colum¬ 
bus tells of that wonderful and mysterious swelling of 
the ocean, the turning of the prow of the Pinta to the 
southwest for almost a whole night. Had they kept 
directly west at this time, they must have struck the 
main land, and this country have been given to Spain. 
Can you map out the history of our country if such a 
thing had happened? Would not the noble civilization 
which Christianity has achieved been bound and fettered 
by an ecclesiastical priesthood? I believe that it 
was the providence of God that sent that swell in the 
ocean, and those birds in the air, and that directed the 
hand of the pilot to turn the prow of the Pinta until 
that little fleet looked to the southwest from west on 
the eve of September 25, 1492. 

The butchery of the Aztecs and the unhappy reign of 
Montezuma seem, indeed, repellant to our modern civ¬ 
ilization; but when we remember Jericho we can but see 
the hand of providence wiping out forever the abomi¬ 
nation of human sacrifice. Surely the nation has exist¬ 
ed long enough, which can pile up in one ghostly heap 
a hundred thousand human skulls as a monument of her 
bloody altars. 

God sent Joshua over the Jordan and Cortez across the 
GulJ. There is a combination of circumstances inter¬ 
woven into the history of the fourteenth and fifteenth 
centuries which shows the handwriting of divine provi¬ 
dence more clearly than that seen by the Babylonian court 
of Belshazzar. Two hundred years before the landing 
of the Pilgrims, type-printing was invented, and im- 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


I 4 I 

mediately the presses of Gutenberg, Faust, and Caxton 
are multiplying printed copies of the Bible. Just at 
this time Constantinople was taken by the Turks, and the 
Greeks are driven to the west, and with their language 
they furnish the West the key to the proper understanding 
of the New Testament. And thus Central Europe in the 
early dawn of the new era began to see the chains bound 
around her by the power of Rome. Then Martin Luther 
appears, and you all know the history of the contest. 

This is the time in the world’s history when a new civil¬ 
ization is bursting from embryo. Shall the new civil¬ 
ization be left to develop upon the barren soil of Europe, 
among the traditions and superstitions of the ages, or 
shall we find it a new home? 

New scenes, new associations, and travel are necessary 
to broaden the intellect and give vivacity to action. 
No two civilizations have ever occurred in the same 
region. Abraham was called out, and so were the Pilgrim 
Fathers. 

A new civilization was born in Europe, but cradled in 
America—a land than which there is none other so lavish 
and munificent in all the varied gifts which nature can 
bestow in climate, fertility, and scenery. To suppose 
that God has had no hand in all this is to suppose that 
the greatest intelligence of the universe has forgotten 
and neglected some of the mightiest conceptions of His 
own handiwork. 

There are two master ideas enthroned in the mind of 
man. These are—God and Liberty. 

I wish to attempt to show that these two master ideas 
have had unfettered growth only upon American soil. 


142 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


God is love, and in its widest, deepest sense—in the 
sense of universal brotherhood. 

Let us trace it down the ages through the muse of the 
poet, and the fruitage will ripen only on American soil. 
There is not a line in all the “Iliae” which expresses 
that fine conception of love—" Love your enemies . ” We 
may call the poem a masterpiece of human genius, and 
the poem of the ages, and yet it does not begin to grasp 
that high ideal of the universal brotherhood. The 
“Odyssey” is no better. 

Virgil says: “For love is lord of all, and in all the 
same;” but the next half-dozen lines betray his lack of 
any holy conception of love. 

Dante talks of love, but we know his world of love 
was no larger than his passion for Beatrice. 

Milton both “Lost and Regained Paradise,” but in all 
that beauty of language, and thought, and figure of 
rhetoric, we do not find an exemplified “ Golden Rule." 

“Paradise Lost” may be called thesublimest epic, but 
it is too rigid to be gentle , and too self-doctrinal to be kind 
and brotherly. 

And the world’s greatest dramatist, Shakespeare! 
But did Shakespeare ever write a drama equal to the 
good Samaritan? But the conception of the good 
Samaritan was not in American soil. True, it was not 
conceived here, but here it fruited. Pll prove it by his¬ 
tory. Who first gave the world this high ideal of love? 
Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus was humanity at its climax, 
plus the eternally divine. He was the great factor in 
the divine purpose. 

Before the seed which he had sown could develop, it 


buckeye-hawkeye school-master 


143 


was seized by the strong arm of civil power and severally 
bound to the state. 

This, as you all know, was done in the time of Con¬ 
stantine. I attempted to show that the human intellect, 
so far as we can see, is the noblest work of the Creator; 
that He has not neglected that work, but has a ceaseless, 
watchful care over it. These facts were shown by his¬ 
tory. And this civil power of the state nevre let 
loose its grasp upon the church until f!oger Williams 
said on American soil, "Let every man worship God 
according to the dictates of his own conscience.” 

Then and there was set free that noblest impulse of 
the human soul, love—love to God, love to humanity. 
It still grows. 

It has rooted out slavery, and as soon as we think as 
much of our fellow-men and of humanity as we ought to 
think, it will root out the rum power and make woman 
the peer of man. 

To return once more to our poets, and this time on 
this side of the Atlantic. Longfellow comes to us all 
with his balm of Gilead, and says: 

“There is no death; what seems so is transition. 

This life of mortal breath 
Is but the suburb of the life elysian 
Whose portals we call death.” 

How grandly sublime is Bryant’s "Forest Hymn! ” 
Here is a quotation from the “Song of the Sower:” 

“ The love that leads the willing spheres 
Along the meandering track of years, 

And watches o’er the sparrow’s nest, 

Shall brood above thy winter’s rest.” 


144 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


And our grand old seer, of whom every American is 
proud:—John G. Whittier—says: 

“ I know not where God’s islands Hft 
Their fronded palms in air, 

I only know I cannot drift 
Beyond His love and care.” 

I have given these quotations simply to show that 
American poets come into our homes, into the palaces of 
our souls, and decorate the walls, and put therein real 
plants, with odor and blossom, so that when we look 
out of the window, the landscape is softened and the 
light is mellowed. And this is not strange, for Christian 
themes and Christian ethics furnish the poet a wider 
scope, and a purer air, and a holier light, than were fur¬ 
nished before love and liberty were unbound. 

If what has been said thus far in this paper is true; if 
the universe is the handiwork of Omniscience, and not 
of chance; if God is a God of purpose; if this “whole 
creation moves toward one far-off divine event”—then 
surely the American teacher, living as he does in the 
best land under the stars, under the best government 
known in history, and in the most enlightened world’s 
progress, becomes a factor in the hands of providence to 
assist in bringing about the consummation of the divine 
purpose. 

We need a higher conception of the scope of our work. 
We need an education of the heart and conscience , as well 
as of the mind. We have been cowards in the past; we 
have been afraid to hold up to our pupils the illustrious 
characters of the Bible for fear we would be called sec¬ 
tarian. We speak of Alexander, of Pericles, of Socra- 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


H5 


tes, of Plato, of Cicero, of Hannibal, of Napoleon, of 
Homer, of Milton, of Byron, of Shakespeare; but we 
blush if we happen to mention the name of Moses, or 
Joseph, or David, or Daniel, or Paul. 

I want to say, I believe it is all wrong , radically wrong . 
Of what concern to the children of to-day are the battles 
of Rome and Greece, and of how infinitely less concern 
to them are the vain and false philosophies of the 
buried ages? 

The Bible gives us living characters. No classic is 
the peer of the Bible, no system of ethics its equal, no 
philosophy equal to the Sermon on the Mount. 

If Jesus is divine, if he is the son of God, then his life 
above all others should be impressed upon the lives of 
the children of this nation; and we cannot leave this to 
the home and the church; for many homes are depraved, 
and the churches are creed- bound. Why should we leave 
this to the home and church? Our objects as teachers 
can only be to make better citizens; and what a nation 
this would be if every citizen was doing his best to imi¬ 
tate the Nazarene. 

Answer me this: Did Jesus utter the truth or a false¬ 
hood when he said, "I am the way, the truth, and the 
life; "I am the Good Shepherd;” “I am the door; ” 
“lam the vine;” “I am the resurrection; ” 'T am Alpha 
and Omega.” The religion of the Bible stands as the 
bulwark of this nation. It is the bone, fiber, and muscle 
of this republic; and as American teachers we shall fail 
to carry out our parts of the divine purpose unless we 
build our work upon this basis. 

This nation is destined to stand till the end of time, 
10 


146 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


unless it falls by its own sins. The life of the republic 
does not depend for a single day upon the tariff question, 
or any other financial issue. 

The great heart of humanity is heaving with the hope 
of a brighter day. All the holier impulses of our better 
natures prophesy of its near approach. We as teachers 
are factors to help it on. 

We are not to be discouraged. The cycles past teach 
us that the “mills of God grind slowly, but they grind 
exceedingly fine.” I repeat that we are not to be dis¬ 
couraged. All the combined evils of both earth and 
hell cannot equal the power of the cross of Christ. 

I remember standing on the back platform of a speed¬ 
ing train as it receded from the base of Pike’s Peak. 
The glories of a setting sun bathed the mountain-top 
in a flood of mellow light and tipped its summit with 
a golden tinge, but the valleys were shrouded in dark¬ 
ness. 

The light from the Son of Righteousness has fallen 
upon a few of the higher heads and hearts on the sum¬ 
mit of humanity, and the foot-hills are still in the dark¬ 
ness of ignorance; but the foot-hills are rising, and the 
glory of the sun is rising too. The last fifty years have 
marked more progress—intellectual, scientific, political, 
social, and religious—than half of the centuries since 
the beginning of the Christian era. 

It takes time to work these changes; but time is a rel¬ 
ative term. “To the boy frolicking in childish sports, a 
thoughtless spendthrift of the golden moments, a cent¬ 
ury is an eternity; but to a nation it is the babyhood of 
existence—the gray dawning of the morning of a day.” 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


H7 


Former nations have given this world much in language, 
much in art, much in bloodshed and cruelty. America 
has set free the twin ideas of love and liberty, and 
the blessings which flow from these, viz: free schools, 
free church, free ballot, free speech, free press, charita¬ 
ble institutions of all kinds, a liberal heart that knows 
how to send food and clothing and money to an unfor¬ 
tunate Dakota, to a burned Chicago, to a racked 
Charleston, to an inundated Johnstown. And why is 
this? Simply because the power of the Nazarene is 
felt in the hearts of the people. 

I do not plead for sectarian dogmas in the school¬ 
room, but I do plead that the life and character of Jesus 
should be held up as the one great life of the ages. 
And if this can be done by the American teachers in 
connection with the other potent factors in the hand of 
providence, this nation will be seen coming up out of 
the darkness of the past ages crowned with beauty, 
with perpetual fruitage, and with eternal sunshine. 
And so the kingdom of Christian civilization growing 
up through the ocean of sin and sorrow will come out at 
last redeemed and glorified. And then will the American 
teacher who has faithfully done his duty reap his re¬ 
ward, whether in this life or in the life beyond, and 
shall finally enter into the enjoyment of “splendors 
and symphonies and loves which eye has not seen, 
nor ear heard, nor the heart felt." 


CHAPTER XI. 


IN THE ROCKIES. 

“Your peaks are beautiful 
In the soft light of these serenest skies; 

From the broad highland region, black with pine, 

Fair as the hills of Paradise they rise, 

Bathed in the tint Peruvian slaves behold 
In rosy flushes, on the virgin gold. 

—Bryant. 

When school closed in the spring of 18— Carl was 
easily persuaded to take the advice of his physician and 
personal friend, to spend the summer in the Rocky 
Mountains. 

Procuring a ninety-days’ excursion ticket over the 
Union Pacific road, he set out early in June for Denver. 

After spending a few days in Denver, by the merest 
accident he met his former pastor, Dr. J., who was on 
his way to visit a brother at Camp Celestial, twenty- 
five miles back of Boulder. Carl received and accepted 
from the Doctor an invitation to accompany him on his 
visit. They found his brother in a comfortable summer 
residence at Camp Celestial. 

After a few days of rest, the two brothers and Carl 
and a guide started by team to Arapahoe. They had a 
splendid team and were well equipped with blankets, 
provisions, and fire-arms. Captain Mac acted as guide 

148 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


149 


and teamster. The route lay over mountains, through can¬ 
yons, through the most beautiful groves of fir and pine. 
Through almost every ravine a mountain torrent ran, 
foaming, dashing, and rushing over its rocky bed, tell¬ 
ing of the rapid dissolution of the mighty snow-fields 
by which these streams are fed. 

Arriving at Caribou in the middle of the afternoon, 
they are informed by their guide that it will be neces¬ 
sary to perform the rest of their journey on foot. Each 
carried provisions or blankets. Carl carried two blank¬ 
ets in a shawl-strap. 

After some hard and rugged climbing, they reached 
the timber-line, at an elevation of eleven thousand feet, 
this being the limit of perpetual snow. Rare, delicate, 
beautiful flowers bloom in rich profusion, where neither 
snow nor rocks cover the soil. It was often possible to 
reach forth the hand and gather enough of these blossoms 
to form a bouquet while the feet still rested on the snow. 

Here, where winter claims an eternal reign and 
ever wears his snowy crown, nature puts him to defi¬ 
ance—driving the snow by mighty winds from the 
mountain-ridge, and weaving over its face the richest 
carpet of flowers. Snow Lake lay across the canyon 
from the trail—a beautiful, clear, crystal lake, which, by 
the sun’s last rays, mirrored in its bosom the rocky 
mountain peaks, and sent forth from its side a silver 
stream, which fell over the precipice and was lost in the 
canyon below. 

The raging waters, the snowy peaks, the murmuring 
of the winds in the pines belov; them, and the setting 
sun, gave, to a nature like Carl’s a sensation of the 


150 BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 

most ecstatic delight, mingled with awe and reverence 
to Him who said: “Let the floods clap their hands, and 
let the hills be joyful together.” 

As they proceeded up the mountain-side, the air grew 
thinner, and more frequent rests were necessary. 

During one of these resting-times, Carl could not re¬ 
sist the temptation to enjoy a bit of boyish fun. So, 
throwing down his bundle, he proceeded to roll down a 
few bowlders; these went leaping, rushing, careering, 
thundering down thousands of feet, until lost from sight 
below timber limit. 

The guide had cautioned Carl to watch his bundle. 
Just as he and the others are starting on, suddenly a 
mighty shout is heard, and they turn to look for Carl, 
who is a hundred yards or more in the rear and in rapid 
pursuit of an object wdiich went leaping from rock to 
rock. With almost equal celerity Carl followed, while 
peal upon peal of laughter from the guide and his com¬ 
panions made the mountains ring. 

Smaller and smaller grew the moving objects as they 
descended, until at last they disappeared from sight be¬ 
hind an intervening precipice. They were not more 
than out of sight before the quick firing of a revolver 
was heard. They gazed intently down the mountain¬ 
side, and a moment after saw Carl, several hundred yards 
below them, appear around the precipice. And then 
there came, wafted to the ear, Carl’s voice, as he shouted: 
“I have found it! I’ve found it!” 

When Carl again joined the company, they declared 
his blankets contained several bullet-holes, and pro¬ 
nounced him a success after mountain-sheep. 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 151 

The moon had climbed above old “Baldy” ere the 
company reached Lone Cabinda rude structure formed 
of pine logs and covered with bark and moss. “Hal¬ 
lo! ” said Captain Mac, and immediately the rude door 
swung open, and ahead appeared. It was the head of the 
“Wild Man of the Mountains.” Captain Mac and he were 
old-time friends. They had been together in the rebel 
army, had repented their enlistment, deserted, and come 
North. 

Carl did not wonder that he was called the “Wild 
Man of the Mountains.” He was unshaven, unshorn, 
and dressed in buckskin pants and red flannel shirt. 

He gave them a hearty welcome, and, after a warm sup 
per prepared by himself and Captain Mac, they spread 
their blankets and lay down to sleep. 

Every member of the little company was up before 
the sun, on the following morning, and went forth into 
the morning air to breathe its freshness and listen to 
the songs of the spring birds. 

Breakfast over, they proceeded to execute the most 
difficult part of their journey. 

Captain Mac took their dinner-basket on his arm and 
beckoned them to follow, and, with feelings of mingled 
hopes, expectations, and fears, they obeyed. Up, up, they 
toil; now they reach a great snow-bank, and crawling to 
its edge, look down, down, over the awful precipice, 
thousands of feet below. The thin air of the lofty height 
is too much for Carl, and he is compelled to stop and 
rest, and when he shuts his eyes he sees visions of him¬ 
self tumbling down the sides of the mighty mountains. 

Still onward and upward they press, leaving far be- 


152 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


low them forests of silver pine, dizzy precipices, a pan¬ 
orama of majestic peaks, whose heads were capped with 
clouds. They reach the summit. Ah, when did man 
ever purchase a richer reward at a smaller cost than they 
had purchased in the sublime scene which spread out 
before them ! Carl was aroused as never before in his 
life. The man who could behold such a vision as was 
now spread out before them in all its loveliness and 
grandeur, unmoved, would certainly be of the earth 
earthy. 

To adore the Creator, to praise Him for His mighty 
works, to feel an ineffable reverence for His holy name, 
seemed only the natural emotion of the soul. After 
drinking in the grandeur in one general view, Carl began 
to question the guide. 

“That lofty peak to the north,” said Captain Mac, “is 
Long’s Peak; now look to the south, and those snowy 
caps are the summits of James and Gray; look to the west¬ 
ward—you are looking at north, center, and south 
parks. That blue line to the far west is the crest of 
the Wasatch, three hundred miles away." Turning 
again, “Yonder,” he said, “is Denver, seventy-five 
miles distant.” The morning was clear and the atmos¬ 
phere in the best condition possible to take in an 
extended landscape. Toward noon they noticed a sin¬ 
gular appearance upon a lofty mountain to the west. 
It looked like a column of smoke—Mac said they were 
going to have a storm. He continued: “We are in the 
home of the storm-king^he sits on these mountains as 
his throne. Out there the cloud not bigger than a man’s 
hand begins. These mountains are all electro-magnets. 


V 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 133 

That mountain where you see the cloud will form the 
storm and pitch it over to yonder peak. James will 
toss it over to Arapahoe, which i^turn will send it on 
to Long’s Peak. Long will give it a mighty cast down 
to Pike, and Pike will send it to the plains.” The clouds 
grew, became dark, and illumined with lightning. It 
stretched eastward until it spread like a mantle around 
James’ Peak, hiding it entirely from view; then it reach¬ 
ed over until it was beneath their feet, shutting out the 
scene below. 

Carl marked how the upper surface resembled the 
mighty ocean tumultuous with waves. They could 
see the lightning and hear the thunder, but they were 
above the storm, and on them the sun was shining 
brightly—fit symbol of those souls which in purity of 
motive and action rise above the storm-clouds of 
life’s tempest and bathe in the sunlight of Heaven’s 
love. 

When the company returned to Camp Celestial, Cap¬ 
tain Mac was handed a letter mailed at Fort Benton, 
Montana. It was from a brother whom he had supposed 
dead, but who was alive, well, and wealthy , and who 
wished Mac to come to him at once. 

Mac decided to start for Helena by rail the next 
morning, and Carl consented to accompany him. 

Bidding adieu to the Johnson brothers, they set 
out on the following morning, and, after a tiresome ride 
of several days, reached Helena. Here they found it 
would be necessary to stage it tfie rest of the way to 
Fort Benton, a distance of one hundred and forty miles. 
A ride of thirty-six straight hours in a regular tally-ho 


154 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


coach ana four was to Carl’s mind a delight he could 
scarce have hoped for. 

They learned that^the road would take them through 
Prickly Pear Canyon. After the first flush of pleasure 
at thought of taking such a ride had passed through 
Carl’s mind, stories of stage robberies, road agents, 
Younger brothers, and the like passed before his vision. 
Then came thoughts of home, of parents, of loved ones 
far away, of Dora—oh! what would he not give to know 
why she had never answered his letter! 

The day for their departure at last arrived. Several 
days in advance they had secured a seat on the outside 
with the driver. Their fare amounted to twenty-three 
dollars each, and no extra charge for sleeping accommoda¬ 
tions, as they partook of that luxury as best they could, 
either sitting, standing, or doubled up, as the case 
might be. Carl had hopes of securing sleeping-quarters 
in the boot, which lies under the driver’s seat, and 
which he was told by old-timers was quite comfortable. 

When the day for departure arrived, Carl was ready 
long before the hour of starting came. 

Several stages were standing before the office in proc¬ 
ess of loading, which is as mysterious as it is incom¬ 
prehensible, for more can be stowed away to the square 
inch in a coach, by an old hand, than tongue can tell, 
or the mind of a tenderfoot conceive. Carl and Captain 
Mac having discovered their coach, mounted beside the 
driver, the good-natured, jolly, weather-beaten Jack Mc- 
Dugal, famous as a stiory-teller—not liar—as they dis¬ 
covered after starting; and also quite a beau along the 
lines. 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


155 


Captain Mac had laid in a large supply of cigars for 
himself and driver; for all who smoke know what an 
open sesame to a smoker's heart a good Havana is. 

The summer morning was quite cool, and there were 
some indications of rain, but Carl was provided with 
both overcoat and water-proof. Car] and Captain Mac 
were the only passengers on the top, the others having 
been stowed away among boxes and packages inside. 
Two of the passengers were ladies, who, Carl learned 
afterward, were a mother and daughter from Cincinnati, 
Ohio. 

All things were ready, and Jack had clambered to his 
seat, lighted a cigar furnished by Captain Mac, took up 
his whip, and with a crack like the report of a “42,” 
they were off like the wind. The motion of the coach 
swaying on the long leather thorough-braces, is not un¬ 
like that of a monstrous cradle, although more un¬ 
steady and uncertain. The motion is much more pleas¬ 
ant to those on the outside than to the inside passen¬ 
gers—the latter often suffering the worst pangs of sea¬ 
sickness. 

Swinging down around the foot of Mount Helena, 
they were soon winding through a canyon, over a wild 
and broken highway, toward Silver City—afterward the 
scene of one of the most cruel and cold-blooded mur¬ 
ders, and one most quickly avenged. 

Before arriving there they met the incoming coach, 
and were notified that a lady passenger awaited them at 
Silver City. » 

Carl noted the mutual friendship arising between Jack 
and Captain Mac, as each spun his story for the benefit 


156 BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 

of the other; but Carl himself was thoughtful and mel¬ 
ancholy. 

Captain Mac noticed this fact with much concern, 
for it was so unlike Carl’s usual buoyant spirits. He 
knew that something unusual must have happened, and 
he awaited an opportunity to make inquiry of Carl as 
to the cause of his sadness. In the meanwhile his con¬ 
versation with Jack did not lag, nor were the cigars left 
unlighted. 

Soon they espied the houses of Silver City, nestled 
among the foot-hills, but offering scarcely space for 
them to stretch their legs and walk about a little, pre¬ 
paratory to another fifteen-mile ride, while a change of 
horses was being made. 

The new passenger proved to be a lady of the straw¬ 
berry-blonde order—fat, fair, and forty, if a day; she 
was arrayed in Mother Goose ecru straw hat, with dark 
blue ribbons and a pink flower, apparently all in the 
first stages of newness, and of which she was evidently 
very proud. Mr. Jack, as the ladies called him, man¬ 
aged to stow her away somewhere in the already well- 
packed coach. As they rolled away, they could hear a 
voice like that of the grave-digger in Hamlet, exclaim at 
every violent motion of the stage, “Oh, my hat! oh, my 
neck!” but where the neck was, Carl had failed to dis¬ 
cover. 

They were now entering the canyon, and the scenery 
was grand beyond description. High above them on 
either hand towered the lofty mountains, nature’s bul¬ 
warks, and from out the crevices where it would seem 
no vegetation could exist, grew tall pines whose tops 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


157 


seemed to pierce the blue of the summer sky. Below 
them, now on the right and now on the left, glittering in 
the sunlight like a band of burnished gold, again like 
shimmering silver, ran a mountain stream, clear as crys¬ 
tal. Carl’s heart leaped within him, and his face bright¬ 
ened, as he contemplated the beauties by which he was 
surrounded; and his soul was filled with the deepest 
reverence as he gazed upon the ever-changing landscape. 

“ The mountain ridges against the purple sky 

Stand clear and strong with darkened rocks and dells: 

The cloudless brightness opens wide and high 
A home aerial, where thy presence dwells.” 

Still on they went, winding along the side of a mount¬ 
ain, over a road so narrow that it seemed as though they 
must be capsized. And as they looked down below them 
upon the rocks and pines, Carl could not repress a shud¬ 
der now and then. But Jack was a skillful driver, and 
Carl soon threw his fears to the wind, and drank in the 
beauty and grandeur about him. Occasionally, how¬ 
ever, he was compelled to descend from his heights of 
rapture, to listen to the narratives of Jack and Mac—for 
one who has for years driven a stage-coach through the 
mountains has a wonderful fund of information, both 
amusing and interesting, and Jack was not an Irishman 
without the native wit. 

From Jack’s lips Carl picked up many choice bits 
not found in history, which in after j^ears he related in 
the class-room, much to the refreshing of his classes. 

The sun had now completely gained the mastery over 
the clouds, and was rolling his way across the flecked 
sky, scattering and dispelling the clouds, until soon the 
heavens presented one unbroken dome of blue. 


158 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


Carl sat silent and thoughtful; Captain Mac and Jack 
had dispensed with their cigars, and each seemed 
wrapped in his own meditations. 

Finally Carl broke the silence by turning to Captain 
Mac and saying: 

“Captain, do you believe in dreams?” 

The Captain was so absorbed in his own thoughts,that 
it was necessary for Carl to repeat his question, which 
lie did hesitatingly, as if ashamed or afraid of being 
considered superstitious. 

“I cannot say I do," said the Captain. “Why do 
you ask?" 

After a moment’s thought Carl answered: “Let me 
relate to you an incident, for I am certain you will be 
interested.” 

“When I was a boy," continued Carl, “I knew and 
loved a brown-eyed, brown-haired girl. Once I saved 
her life. In youth my love grew stronger, and when 
manhood came, I offered my ripened love for love. I 
had every reason to believe she would accept it, but my 
letter to her was lost; she never received it. Last even¬ 
ing, in looking over the ‘Helena Daily ,’ I read, under the 
title 'A Defective Letter-Box,’ a history of how through 
a defective slot more than one hundred letters had been 
lost among the dust of the old building. It was at that same 
office that I mailed my letter. When I went to my room 
I could not sleep; I lived over again all the scenes with 
Dora, and thought how heartless she must have thought 
me to leave her so abruptly and never to have written. 

I sat down and wrote to her at once telling her all, 
and cutting out the notice in the Daily to inclose with 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


159 


my letter. Then I remembered she might be married, 
and so I destroyed my letter. 

“Again I threw myself on my bed, and vainly courted 
the sleepy god. Toward morning I fell into a heavy 
slumber and dreamed. I cannot tell where I was, for the 
surroundings were new and strange to me; unknown 
faces were about me; the sky became darkly overcast, 
and the mutterings of a storm were heard in the dis¬ 
tance; birds were fluttering about, calling to their mates, 
and exhibiting the unmistakable signs of fear and im¬ 
pending danger. 

“Suddenly, above the tumult of the storm, I heard a cry 
of one in distress. I listened, but no one else seemed to 
hear; again I heard it, and this time I could distinguish 
the words, 'Carl, Carl! save me!’ I could move neither 
hand nor foot. It was Dora’s voice calling to me, but I 
seemed riveted to the spot. In my struggles to move I 
awakened; and I was sitting up on my bed trembling 
from head to foot, and great drops of perspiration were on 
my forehead. Such a hold did my dream take upon me 
that sleep was now impossible, and I arose and dressed 
myself, but could not banish it from my mind. I 
firmly believe that I shall see Dora soon.” 

With this recital, Carl lapsed into silence, and Cap¬ 
tain Mac, after looking sharply at him for a moment, 
turned his face toward the snowy peaks on their left. 

Jack was the first to speak. Taking out his watch, he 
informed them they would soon be at Mitchell’s Ranch, 
where they would eat and rest. 

Before reaching there, however, he pointed out to his 
companions a beautiful little spot and said: 


l6o BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 

“There is where Captain Clark was massacred by the In¬ 
dians. Captain Clark had come to Montana in a very early 
day, and, like many others, had married an Indian wife, from 
the Piegan tribe, and had settled in the Prickly Pear 
Canyon. He had in a great measure supported his wife’s 
family until patience ceased to be a virtue, and he drove 
them away. Becoming incensed at this treatment, a 
party of them returned one day and shot him dead in the 
presence of his wife and children. This was in 1869. 
Helen P. Clark, one of his daughters, is probably one 
of the best teachers and best educated half-breed women 
in Montana. For many years she has been superinten¬ 
dent of schools in Lewis and Clarke County. She is 
now studying for the stage, and is quite an elocutionist." 

Mitchell’s Ranch! All unload for dinner! ” was the 
welcome call of Jack as he alighted from the stage; and 
never was a call more welcome or a dinner better appre¬ 
ciated. After an hour of rest they resumed their seats 
and were off again. The day continued beautiful and 
the scenery none the less magnificent, and Carl felt in 
sympathy with the one who penned this sentiment: 

“ I live not in myself, but 1 become 
Portion of that around me, and to me 
High mountains are a feeling, but the hum 
Of human cities a torture.’' 

This day, like all others, had its close, and they were 
nearing Rock Creek, where they were to change horses 
and drivers, eat supper, and take a little rest. The last 
was much needed, for the passengers were sadly fatigued 
from their long ride. 

Within a fewmiles of the station, as they were travel¬ 
ing leisurely along, each intent upon his own thoughts, 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER l6l 

a rattling, as of a vehicle being driven rapidly over the 
rocky road, broke upon their ears; but they could see 
nothing, as the road wound around the mountain. 

"We’re in a pickle,” said Jack, "for we can’t pass any¬ 
body here.” 

Carl had not thought of this; but he at once saw the 
truth of Jack’s words. 

The rattling now became louder and more distinct. 

Suddenly there dawned upon them a sight which al¬ 
most caused their hearts to cease beating; for directly 
in front, and coming toward them, they saw a pair of 
horses, wild with fright, attached to an open buggy in 
which was a lady. 

"Great Heavens!” said Carl; "she will be killed!” 
And before a word could be said in reply, he was on the 
ground and running at full speed toward the runaway 
team. 

Jack called to the ladies to jump from the coach, which 
they did, and at once clambered upon the projecting 
rocks out of the reach of danger. On came the madden¬ 
ed creatures, while Carl stood like a statue awaiting 
their approach. 

Suddenly, above the tumult was heard the cry: 

"Carl! save me! ” 

Carl grasped the bits of the near horse, and was 
lifted from the ground. 

Then horses and man went to the ground together. 

Captain Mac was on the spot in a moment, expecting 
to find the brave fellow killed; but Carl sprang up im¬ 
mediately, and leaving Captain Mac to quiet the trem- 


// 


162 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


bling, foam-covered horses, he was by the side of the 
buggy, assisting the lady to alight. 

“Carl!” 

“Dora, you are safe.” 

But the shock was too great for her nerves, and she 
fainted. The contents of a flask from Jack’s pocket 
soon restored her. 

‘Am I dreaming? Carl, where are you?” 

“Here, Dora—you are not dreaming, but you have had 
a narrow escape.” 

Dora explained that she and her cousin had stopped 
at Rock Creek for a drink, and while he had gone down 
the hill to get it, the team became frightened at a flock 
of sheep, and she could not hold them. Carl volun¬ 
teered to drive her back to Rock Creek. 

When alone, Carl said: 

“Dora, how is it that you are here, and alone? I can¬ 
not comprehend it." 

She replied: “I am on my way to the Friends’ Mission 
to teach the Indians;” and after a pause she continued: 
“Oh, Carl, I owe my life to you! How shall I ever repay 
you?” 

“I am already repaid," said Carl, “in knowing that 
I have helped to prolong such a noble life. Here comes 
your cousin, and I will relinquish my seat to him.” 

As the coach came up, Carl refused his seat, prefer- 
ing to walk the rest of the way to Rock Creek, which 
was now very near. 

After supper Carl and Dora walked down the mountain 
road alone. She clasped her hands around his arm, and 
allowed him to assist and support her, as she was still 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


163 

nervous from her fright. Carl felt that never before in 
his life had he been so happy. 

They reached a shelving rock on the hill-side, just 
above the spring, and both were seated for a quiet talk, 
and as the setting sun hone over them and glorified the 
look of happiness on Dora's face, Carl had no words 
with which to express the emotions that filled his heart. 
So the sun sank lower, and the air from the mountain 
grew chill, and Carl drew the fleecy shawl, which he had 
carried on his arm, closer around Dora’s shoulders. 
Words were hardly needed, for eye and tone had told 
the old story that is ever new, in the first few moments 
that they were together. 

It did not take long to explain all. Dora told him of 
her anxious hours, and he told of his work in the West. 
The air grew cooler, and they started to retrace their 
steps. 

As they came to a turn in the road, a wild rose-bush 
hung, full of bloom, over a projecting bowlder. Dora 
unclasped her hands from his arm, and plucked the in¬ 
viting flowers, and with a few fern-leaves made a bou¬ 
quet, and turning to Carl, she held them up and said: 

“How beautiful! Shall I divide them with you?” 

He stepped forward, and as he received them he kissed 
the hand that presented them. 

It was now time for them to return, as the stage would 
start again in a few moments. 

When they arrived at Rock Creek the coach was al¬ 
ready in waiting. Carl bade Dora a hasty good-bye, and 
was soon out of sight, around the mountain cliff. 

Captain Mac found Carl more cheerful, but not more 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


164 

talkative. As night approached a snow-storm set in, 
and Carl and the Captain found more comfortable quar¬ 
ters on the inside. All night long the storm raged. A 
blind confidence in their driver drove away all fear from 
the passengers. 

In due time Fort Benton was reached, and Carl became 
for a few days the guest of the Captain’s brother. He 
then joined a party of tourists bound for Seattle. Arriv¬ 
ing there, he took a vessel for San Francisco; and after 
a pause of a few days spent at the pleasant home of 
Ripley Long, a former class-mate at Griffinsville, he 
again continued his journey southward to Los Angeles. 
Carl stopped long enough to purchase a young orange 
grove a little south of the city. It included ten acres. 
From Los Angeles he returned overland via the Santa Fe 
route, and arrived at D in ample time to rest before 
beginning the work of the next school-year. 


CHAPTER XII. 


HOME. 

“And when men see some fruit of work well done, 

When something of earth’s happiness is won, 

And they begin to dream of rest and strife— 

When children fill the home, and day by day 
Our youthful dreams of glory fade away— 

Then is the mellow autumn-tide of life.” 

Dr. Corwin met Carl at the train on his return, and 
noted with much delight the improvement in his health. 

Carl was thoroughly “tanned," and with a blanket and 
feathers might easily have been taken for at least a half- 
breed. As they came to the hotel where the Doctor had 
formerly boarded, Carl expected him to stop; but as 
the Doctor showed no signs of doing so, Carl inquired 
if he had changed his boarding-place. The Doctor re¬ 
sponded, pushing his hat on the back of his head as he 
spoke: 

“Well, yes, I should say I had—that is, I have set up 
housekeeping myself, and taken in a single boarder.” 

“What! you married? Great Scott! give us your 
hand!” 

While they were shaking hands, along, came Barney 
Strong, and as he recognized Carl, he reached out his 
hand, saying, “T-t-take keer there, boys! T-t-take keer, 
there’s the professor. I was tell in’ the old woman 

165 


l66 BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 

you’d be back all safe, as the stars were all right when 
you went away. T-t-take keer there, boys! I’ve been 
a visitin’ too, since you was here. I was in Des Moines, 
a visitin’ Uncle Jimmie DeMott. T-t-take keer there, 
boys! They’re the same old couple yet.” 

Ezra and Mary welcomed Carl as though he had been 
their own son, and that evening at supper he enjoyed 
the waffles and tea with infinite delight; and when the 
shades of evening had come and he ascended to his cham¬ 
ber, he kn'elt down in the silence and poured forth a prayer 
of thankfulness for his safe return, and for all the joy 
that had come to his soul during his absence. And then he 
added a petition for strength and vigor to carry forward 
the work of the school-year to a successful termination. 

When the old school-bell called again to duty, there 
was not a vacant seat. The work for the term had been 
carefully prepared by Carl before he went West; there¬ 
fore the first day’s work was just as effectual as any. 
Carl felt his renewed strength and vigor, and also that 
he had largely increased his stock of general knowledge. 

It would be well if every teacher could find the time 
and money to spend a vacation, now and then, as Carl 
spent this one. It would add new life and vigor both 
to mind and body. And that school board would be the 
wisest who would pay such wages as would warrant the 
teacher in making such summer tours. 

To enter into the details of this year’s work in 
school would be but to repeat what has already been 
written in these pages. That the work was well done, 
I need but to mention that Carl was offered the position 
again, and accepted it at an increased salary. 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 167 

When the May cherries were blushing again, and the 
peonies were dropping their petals, Carl thought of his 
long absence from home, and decided at once to return 
and visit it. It would not now seem the same old home, 
for a mother would not be there to greet him; but there 
were other loved ones there; and the rocks, and hills, 
and streams would be unchanged, and he would renew 
their acquaintance once more. They would have for him 
a thousand recollections, a thousand refreshings and 
blessings. Carl’s cultivated taste in perceiving the 
beautiful and the sublime in nature had led him to be 
favorably influenced by their ministries. 

He had been led to see the supreme relation these 
tastes and sensibilities bear to moral and spiritual life. 
He could not tell the psychological reason why nature 
made these ecstatic impressions. He had studied some¬ 
what the laws of light and shade, and the mechanism of 
vision; but he had learned that beyond this science 
does not conduct us. The deep secrets, the divine 
mysteries of our life and being, are forever hidden. 
Carl could see that of proximate causes he knew noth¬ 
ing. Even within the domain of consciousness and in¬ 
tuitiveness, he found himself shut up within the limits 
of observed and registered phenomena. He could not 
get beyond their chronological relations and dependen¬ 
cies, but on this account he did not love philosophy 
less, but revered his own being more, and admired with 
a deeper intensity universal nature, instinct with diver¬ 
sity, and full of the secrets and mysteries of God. 

CarTs psychological studies in trying to understand 
hi e own being had led him to see, not only in himself, 


i68 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


but in every one, that long before the capacity to reason 
is developed, or habits of reflection formed, deep-seated 
in the soul of infant man is the love of the beautiful mani¬ 
fest. Attractive objects to the infant eye, and simple 
melodies to the infant ear, are as old as Cain, both to 
civilised and uncivilized life. 

Oh, teacher, here was Carl’s greatest success—leading 
upward, upward, along God’s pathway of endless beauty 
and symmetry. 

The Indian heard the roar of the great cataract, and 
named it Niagara, “The Water Thunder." He looked by 
night into the bosom of a quiet river, and called it 
Shenandoah, “Daughter of the Stars." The plashing of a 
western river sounde 1 in his ear like the voice of mirth 
and gladness, and he called it Minnehaha, “ The Laugh¬ 
ing Water." 

What testimonies are these to the great fact that the 
love of the beautiful is first, is always, is everywhere! 

Carl believed that in childhood this love of the beauti¬ 
ful was ever trying to gain despotic sway over the en¬ 
tire soul. This to him was the supreme law of taste. 
It demands that all things with which the human soul 
has to do, material or immaterial, animate or inani¬ 
mate, shall conform to some ideal of beauty; and it is 
only after a continued warfare against this esthetic ele¬ 
ment of our being, that it yields, and leaves the soul 
a prey to selfishness and lust. In taking this view, Carl 
could not conceive of a greater misfortune, save the utter 
abandonment by the spirit of God, that could befall a 
human being in this present life, than that this love of 
the beautiful should remain undeveloped. 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


169 


Thanks to the Heavenly Father, this capacity of the 
soul to drink in the beautiful has no relations to dol¬ 
lars and cents, to interest-tables or discounts. It has 
qo immediate relations to our animal life. We look 
upon an opening rose-bud and feel that it is beautiful, 
without thinking of its ultimate purpose in the economy 
of the plant. This element of the soul is not the herit¬ 
age of the rich alone. Thank God, beauty and sub¬ 
limity, the soul’s needed good, unhedged lie open in 
life’s common field, and bids all welcome to the vital 
feast. Oh, teacher, wander with the children in this 
common field! It is the river of life in this world; 
its waters are for the healing of their child-troubles 
and sorrows. 

The morning for Carl’s departure came, and as he 
passed down the street, grip in hand, he met his old 
friend Barney. 

“Hello, Barney! I’m going away again; how are the 
stars this time?” 

“T-t-t-take keer there, boys! take keer! Dog my cuts, 
Mr. McKenzie, if I didn’t tell the old woman last night 
that something unusual was goin’ to happen, and here it 
is. T-t-takekeer there, boys! there’s a weddin’ in it too, 
somewhere. I know a thing or two. Old Barney hasn’t 
always had his eyes shut. I-I-I haven’t lived always for 
nothin’. ” 

“Thank you, Barney; but I fear all you predict will 
not be true—at least in my case.” 

“T-t-take keer there, boys! the stars never lie—mind 
that, now! ” 


170 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


Carl gave Barney a warm shake of the hand, and bade 
him good-bye. 

The first man whom Carl met as he stepped off the 
train at Cincinnati was Charles Dummond. He in¬ 
formed Carl that he owned and operated the largest art 
gallery in the city, but that he had long since ceased to 
paint pictures in an old wood-shed, with pokeberry- 
juice for paint. 

Carl changed cars at Cincinnati, and as he took his 
seat a fine-looking gentleman offered him his hand, and 
said: 

"You do not know me? Well, I am the boy who 
swore on the ball-ground when you taught at Glady. ” 

Carl shook his hand warmly, and during their con¬ 
versation he learned that James was traveling agent for 
a school-furnishing company. 

Dr. McKenzie met his son at the depot. It seemed 
so long to them both since they had met. 

He drove Carl to the country home of his daughter 
Bess. The Doctor made his home there since the death 
of his wife Jane. Carl marked the silver in his father’s 
hair, the lack of elasticity in his step; but the spirit 
was as buoyant as ever, softened a little in a gentler 
love. 

During those happy June days, Carl and his father 
lived over again the former life with gun and rod. But 
Fido was not with them; he had died from snake-bite 
long since. 

The Doctor took infinite delight in hearing Carl tell 
of the great West, and many times expressed a desire to 
visit it; and Carl determined in his own mind that, if 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


171 

the Heavenly Father permitted, that desire should be 
fully realized. 

Carl spent a day at the academy at M. He learned 
while there that Prof. Moon was president of a college 
in Eastern Ohio; that his room-mate, Nolder, was a 
practicing physician in the city of Chicago; that Mr. 
Ousley was in the employ of the United States as civil 
engineer. 

The first Sabbath morning dawned with a cloudless 
sky. The trees were perfect, robed in their new foliage 
and fair luxuriance. The bees hum about the clover. 
The bob-white, from his perch upon the rail, calls to his 
mate. A solemn stillness reigns. It was— 

“A morn when all the hedgerows glimmer white 

With summer snows, scattered by hawthorn flowers; 

A morn when Nature trembles with delight, 

And love is lingering in the golden hours, 

And hiding ’mongst the purple shades that lie 
Where the dim forest fringes meet the bending sky.” 

Carl and Bess have woven a garland of smilax and 
pansies, and are wending their way across the field and 
through the woodland to a quiet little cemetery, beauti¬ 
fully located on a mound of more than an acre, and 
neatly kept. There their mother sleeps. As they walk 
along Bess relates to him all the story of her sickness, 
suffering, and final victory in death. 

As they approach nearer they walk in silence. Carl 
lifts the latch to the little gate, they enter, and Bess 
takes his arm and leads the way. As they approach 
the grave both kneel down, and the garland is placed on 
the head of the grave. The thoughts that come to Carl 
at this hour are too sacred for these pages. 


172 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


There is a chamber in life’s halls where God and 
self alone may enter and commune together. The doors 
to that chamber are widest open to the Father when 
sorrow is the deepest: “Behold, I stand at the door and 
knock.” May it not be that sorrow comes often because 
we will not hear, and will not open? 

The grave was overgrown with myrtle. Carl gathered 
a few leaves to carry away and keep. They start back 
to the little gate, and not a word is spoken; before they 
reach it Carl stops and turns around to look again. 
He puts an arm around his sister, leans his head on her 
shoulder and weeps. 

Again they turn, and pass out the little gate, silent at 
first; but gradually the veil of sorrow lifts. The spirit 
has mellowed and sweetened the soul, and life is more 
blessed. “Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be 
comiorted." They stop on the way to enjoy the cool 
breezes under the shade of a spreading chestnut. Carl 
related to Bess the incidents connected with his journey¬ 
ing in the mountains, and his strange but happy meet¬ 
ing with Dora; and Bess enters into full sympathy 
with him in all his experiences. He informed her that 
he expected Dora to come to Ohio in a few days—and 
that she might guess the rest. 

Again they wandered on, and it was high noon when 
they reached home. During the afternoon of that Sab¬ 
bath, Carl accompanied the Doctor in a visit to see a 
patient; but when evening came Carl felt that he would 
like to be alone, and recall the events not only of the 
day, but of the long, long past. On the hill-side he 
found a jutting rock and sat down. It is well for the 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


173 


soul at times to claim a season of meditation when 
evening folds her drooping wings, and let your soul be 
won to reverence and love by the subdued glories of the 
dying day. No hour like that which immediately^succeeds 
the setting of the sun on a calm summer evening! The 
shadows gradually deepen in the woodland, and darkness 
gathers in the valleys; the birds close their vesper hymn; 
one by one the bright stars appear, and slowly and gently 
the night, cool and dewy, comes down with a holy 
stillness upon the world. It is^hard to conceive how 
Heaven itself can be more divinely beautiful! 

Carl sat wedded to the beauties of the stilly night 
long after the lights went out in the home he had just 
left. 

He sat and listened to the voices that whispered to 
his soul of the days gone and of those to come. They 
were not specters, those voices, but angels with mes¬ 
sages of love; and as he sat and listened to the night 
wind that murmured among the trees near by, or the 
hoarser moaning through the swaying trees of the dis¬ 
tant forest as the wind arose, he thought of the infinite 
and omniscient spirit whose presence was his safety 
and his life, and his enfranchised soul ascended to claim 
its part in the rejoicing suns and circling worlds that 
chant their battle anthems in the deeps of heaven. 

On the following morning Carl received this missive: 

"Home, June —, 18— 

"Dear Carl: — 

‘‘The roses are in bloom, and the placid waters of the 
river await the disturbing oar. Dora.” 

Carl answered this note in person the same evening. 


i 74 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


For the few following weeks he was often at the Dun- 
dore home. Then there was a quiet wedding, and, 
shortly after, Carl, accompanied by Dora, returned toD., 
where a neat little cottage home awaited them, and 
where Dora was a constant help and sympathizer with 
Carl in all his school-work, and where evening after 
evening they entertained Carl’s senior class, in their so¬ 
cial and literary efforts. It was a home where all found 
their welcome, and where the sad at heart found bur¬ 
dens of care lifted by kind and sympathetic words. So¬ 
ciety at D. found in Dora just that friend it needed—not 
an arrogant, selfish, flippant daughter of fashion, but a 
warm-hearted, cultured, earnest Christian worker, whose 
mind and heart was ever fertile with helpful word and 
practical suggestion. 

Next morning after their return to D., as Carl was 
walking down town, he was startled by the voice of a 
person not seen but near by: “T-t-t-take keer there, boys! 
Takekeer! I knew them’ere stars wouldn’t lie. T-t-t-take 
keer there now, boys! Last week, when the old woman and 
me was pullin’ a mess of roastin’-ears, Old Barney just 
wheeled right over, and the old woman thought I’d gone; 
and when she turned me over, I opened my eyes and 
said, ‘T-t-take keer there, boys! Old Barney han’t a-goin’ 
yet.’” 

"Well, Barney, will we have an early winter?” 

”T-t-take keer there! The sweet potato vines are in 
full bloom, and that’s a sure sign of late fall and winter.” 

Carl and Dora labored together for many years in this 
happy home in D. But Carl felt the need of a change 
of climate and occupation. They had been frugal and 


BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER 


175 


saving, and had amassed enough to build them a comfort¬ 
able home on the property owned at Los Angeles, Cali¬ 
fornia. 

And now, my reader, as I approach the last pages of 
this little volume, I ask you to pass over several years 
and go with me to a beautiful home a little south of 
Los Angeles. Picture to yourself a high table-land, fer¬ 
tile as a garden, with orchards of pear and quince, grape 
and apricot, peach and plum. Look to the north or to 
the south, and snowy mountai-peaks meet your gaze. 
Look to the east, and long avenues of orange trees invife 
your steps, and their golden fruit tempt your appetite. 
Look beyond the beautiful lawn in front, and to the 
west, and “old ocean's gray and melancholy waste" meets 
your view. Bring your eyes back to the lawn. In the cen¬ 
ter is a fountain sending its silver spray high in the air. 
From its base white pebbled walks radiate in eight di¬ 
rections, as if to meet the angles of an octagon. These 
walks are lined with the most delicate flowers and foli¬ 
age plants; oleander and rhododendrons are interspersed 
here and^here, and the closely mown sward feels like 
a carpet to the feet. 

The residence is modern in structure, but is more con¬ 
venient than palatial, more useful than elegant. 

This is the home of Dora and Carl. Here is where 
they hold sweet converse with nature. Here is where 
they look out on the beauties of God’s world, when the 
morning breaks and the curtain of night is slowly lift¬ 
ing. Here is where they hear the first notes of the robin, 
and inhale the sweet odor of the orange blossom. This 
is not a home of luxuriant, dissipated ease, but it is a 


176 BUCKEYE-HAWKEYE SCHOOL-MASTER. 

home of cheerful, active employment, interspersed with 
the comforts of repose. 

As I sit and pen these lines, and look out upon old 
ocean and hear its distant dashings and murmurings as 
the tide comes in, the white sail upon its bosom is a 
silent reminder that we are all, all, on the ocean of time, 
and these lines of Whittier come to me most forcibly: 

“I know not where God’s islands lift 
Their fronded palms in air; 

I only know I cannot drift 
Beyond His love and care.” 

And a sentence comes down over the centuries and 
cheers my soul: “In my father’s house are many man¬ 
sions. ” 

And now I hear the patter of childish feet on the stair¬ 
way; the door is gently pushed aside, and Blanche and 
Paul have come to call me to the evening meal. They 
take each a hand, and we descend. 

Dr. McKenzie, with his cheerful face and silvered 
beard, stands at the head of the table. I take my place 
on his right; Dora, with baby Lavinia in her arms, oppo¬ 
site to me, with a face radiant with the bloom of health, 
contentment, and love; Blanche goes to my right, and 
Paul to Dora’s left. We sit—the Doctor raises his voice 
in simple thanksgiving. The last rays of a sinking sun 
throw a mellow light upon the happy group. Let us 
leave them to the enjoyment of their repast and the rare 
delights of a happy home. 


THE END. 


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the kingdoms of nature. 

—OR'- 

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